“We were so worried. Papa heard shots.”
He removed his coat. It was always a surprise, how thin he had become. I suppose we all had. “I’m fine, ma. Don’t worry. I’m always careful.”
“Were you able to get it?” Papa asked him. I could see he was trying to guard his eagerness. To shield himself from disappointment.
He reached into his pocket with a look of triumph and pulled out a muslin-wrapped parcel. “A whole loaf!”
Papa got to his feet, clapping. “Splendid! A feast! I’ll get the knife.”
I knew we should save it, but I said nothing.