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none matched the poise and ease with which she seemed to understand her own measure.
    He sat across from her as she finished pouring her father’s coffee. She motioned with her eyebrows to ask if they wanted her to pour them a cup. Amos shook his head, and Henry managed to say, “Thank you, but I’ve had mine this morning.”
    â€œYou should know that Collie is the camp translator,” Sherman Heights said, sipping his coffee. “At least this far into the campaign. You must be proud of your daughter, Major.”
    â€œVery proud,” Major Brennan said, lifting a dull white handkerchief to his lips. His voice, Henry noticed, seemed sometimes to sink on the last few words, as if his lungs could not quite release them. “She’s been doing more than her share in every way.”
    â€œWhere did you learn Heiny talk?” Amos asked.
    He slouched in his chair. He made Collie uncomfortable, Henry saw, and he deliberately used a slang word to deprecate her ability to speak German. Amos despised social conventions and did his best to disrupt them, but his hatred for Germans ran deeper even than that, Henry knew. Henry watched him with dull astonishment.
    â€œMy mother was fond of German opera and lieder music,” Collie said, apparently ignoring his tone as she slid the coffeepot onto the silver tray at the center of the table. “We lived in Munich for a short time when I was quite young. My father convalesced there, and he also served as an adjunct during the peace discussions.”
    â€œThat’s very impressive,” Sherman Heights said. “I may need to steal her from time to time, Major, if it comes to that. We depend on a fellow up in a logging camp here to translate when the need arises. A German fellow, but he’s so long in this country that his language has dried up on him.”
    â€œI’ll part with her reluctantly,” Major Brennan said, “and only for the briefest periods.”
    â€œOf course, of course,” Henry heard his father say. “Now, I should also mention that Henry has joined us permanently. He’s going to be put in charge of shipping. It’s his first full day, in fact.”
    Henry felt himself flush. He was aware of Collie, the major’s daughter, glancing quickly at him. He had seen that look before: one of quick appraisal, then dismissal. What was a man if he could not join the service when his country needed him? He was young and outwardly robust, he knew, and he suspected that many people, hearing the news of his disqualification, attributed it to his family’s prominence. It was emasculating. Any attempt to explain his circumstances only made the situation worse.
    Fortunately, before they could delve further into the matter, they began discussing the details of their business arrangement: how many workers, how many hours, what terms, when the loads would be delivered, and so forth. Much of it had already been hammered out, but Henry nevertheless had difficulty keeping his mind on the discussion. Some of it was too new for him to comprehend, but he was also distracted by Major Brennan’s daughter’s presence. Collie, he reminded himself. What proved most distracting was trying not to look at her or to be distracted by her; he felt if he could simply give in and gaze at her as much as he liked, he might be satisfied with his study and turn his attention to the matter at hand. It was the surreptitiousness of his glances that complicated everything. When at one point the conversation paused and he realized he was expected to speak, he cleared his throat and simply nodded. That produced an awkward gap that his father hurried to fill with his own voice.
    After the meeting, he joined his father and Amos in walking the Brennans out to their waiting jeep. Their driver held the door open.
    â€œGood-bye,” his father said, shaking hands with them both, “let us know if we can be of any