Nevertheless, Kitty kept its arrival a secret from Jack. And to do so, it was necessary for her to destroy it, for there was no place where he might not, some day, find it. But it didn’t matter, she told herself, for by the time she dropped it into the glowing coals of the range, she knew the letter by heart. My dear Kitty, There’s not much I can tell you really for, because I am an officer and have to censor the soldiers’ letters home, I know too, what I must not put myself. Enough to say I am homesick and miss everyone, but the comradeship and the spirit out here are magnificent. I hope you are well. My regards to your son, and tell him the soldier now has his gun, though, Kitty, I wish with all my heart now, that I did not have it. I didn’t know what it would be like. I just didn’t know. I wish I were fourteen again and back in my room at home . . . His words had escaped the censor’s pencil for in themselves they said nothing, but to Kitty, who knew exactly what those last few words really meant, they told her everything.
