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Page 50
She put her hand on his head, and he brought it down and held it
between his.
"Two or three times," he said, "when things were very bad with me,
you let me hold your hand, and we got past somehow--didn't we?"
She closed her eyes, remembering the dawn when, to soothe a dying
man, in the presence of the mission preacher, she had put her hand
in his. Billy Grant thought of it too.
"Now you know what you've married," he said bitterly. The bitterness
was at himself of course. "If--if you'll sit tight I have a fighting
chance to make a man of myself; and after it's over we'll fix this
thing for you so you will forget it ever happened. And I---- Don't
take your hand away. Please!"
"I was feeling for my handkerchief," she explained.
"Have I made you cry again?"
"Again?'
"I saw you last night in your room. I didn't intend to; but I was
trying to stand, and----"
She was very dignified at this, with her eyes still wet, and tried
unsuccessfully to take her hand away.
"If you are going to get up when it is forbidden I shall ask to be
relieved."
"You wouldn't do that!"
"Let go of my hand."
"You wouldn't do that!!"
"Please! The head nurse is coming."
He freed her hand then and she wiped her eyes, remembering the
"perfect, silent, reliable, fearless, emotionless machine."
The head of the training school came to the door of the pavilion,
but did not enter. The reason for this was twofold: first, she had
confidence in the Nurse; second, she was afraid of contagion--this
latter, of course, quite _sub rosa_, in view of the above quotation.
The Head Nurse was a tall woman in white, and was so starchy that
she rattled like a newspaper when she walked.
"Good morning," she said briskly. "Have you sent over the soiled
clothes?" Head nurses are always bothering about soiled clothes;
and what becomes of all the nailbrushes, and how can they use so
many bandages.
"Yes, Miss Smith."
"Meals come over promptly?"
"Yes, Miss Smith."
"Getting any sleep?"
"Oh, yes, plenty--now."
Miss Smith peered into the hallway, which seemed tidy, looked at the
Nurse with approval, and then from the doorstep into the patient's
room, where Billy Grant sat. At the sight of him her eyebrows rose.
"Good gracious!" she exclaimed. "I thought he was older than that!"
"Twenty-nine," said the Nurse; "twenty-nine last Fourth of July."
"H'm!" commented the Head Nurse. "You evidently know! I had no idea
you were taking care of a boy. It won't do. I'll send over Miss
Hart."
The Nurse tried to visualise Billy Grant in his times of stress
clutching at Miss Hart's hand, and failed.
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