"She's after Enriquez," groaned the physician. "He's weak; he
can't refuse her anything."
"I don't want a woman on my hands," O'Reilly whispered, fiercely.
"Suppose she got sick? Good Lord! I'd have to NURSE her." He wiped
a sudden moisture from his brow.
"Oh, she won't get sick. She'll probably nurse you--and--and all
the other men. You'll like it, too, and you will all fall in love
with her--everybody does--and start fighting among yourselves.
There! She has Enriquez. Listen."
Johnnie shivered apprehensively at the directness with which Miss
Evans put her request. "You understand, I want to go and see for
myself," she was saying. "If you need medicines I'll give them--
bushels of the nastiest stuff I can buy. I'll organize a field
hospital. ... Oh, very well, call it a bribe, if you like. Anyhow,
I've fully determined to go, and Mr. O'Reilly has volunteered to
take care of me. He's charmed with the idea." Miss Evans giggled.
"That means you'll have to take him along, too."
There followed a pause during which the two men exchanged dismayed
glances.
"She doesn't seem to care what she says," O'Reilly murmured. "But-
-I'll put a flea in Enriquez's ear."
"Put it in writing, please." There was another wait. "Now read it
to me. ... Good!" Miss Evans fairly purred over the telephone.
"Send it to me by messenger right away; that's a dear.
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