Though, of course, I can tell why you didn’t come down to the road, War’s terrible, isn’t it? All those nice boys going off⁠— I feel just the way you do, darling⁠—we just have to show them Whenever we can that we know they are fighting for us, Fighting for God and the South and the cause of the right⁠— ‘Law, Chile, don’t you fret about whether you’s pretty or plain, You just do what you kin, and the good Lawd’ll brighten your tracks.’ That’s what my old mammy would tell me when I was knee-high And I always remember and just try to do what I can For the boys and the wounded and⁠—well, that’s it, isn’t it, dear? We’ve all got to do what we can in this horrible war.” Sally agreed that we had, and drank from a cup. She thought. “Lucy Weatherby. Yes. I must look for a doll. I must make a doll with your face, an image of wax. I must call that doll by your name.”