I can just see the island, and the rocks round which the boat drifted--that last night.

How good you were to me--how I loved to sit and look at you, with the light on your dear face--and the oars hanging--and the shining water-- 'And then I think of where you are--and what you have been seeing in that awful fighting.

But not for long.

I try to put it away.
'George, darling!--you know what you said when you went away--what you hoped might come--to make us both happy--and take my thoughts off the war?
But, dear, it isn't so--you mustn't hope it.

I shall be dreadfully sorry if you are disappointed.