"This night, however, she surprised me by getting down on her "poor old knees" (as she always referred to them) beside me and told me to pray with her "for the safety of the British Army in France." Her own palms were pressed tightly together, and there were tears in her eyes behind her gold-rimmed pince-nez. She usually said her prayers long after I had said mine and gone to bed, and she had so far as I know no relatives in the BEF. It was nothing personal--it was as if the whole nation were, for a brief moment, united in anxious prayer or, for those who did not pray, in silent thought."