"
But she was glad.
While the Captain held her hand in his as if he would never let her go,
she told him about being fluted and starched. "I don't look as
dishevelled as I did the other day."
"You looked beautiful the other day," he assured her with fervor, "but
this is better, because you are rested and some of the sadness has gone
out of your eyes."
Dr. McKenzie watched them enviously, "I realize," he reminded them,
"that I am the fifth wheel, or any other superfluous thing, but you
can't get rid of me. I am homesick--somebody's got to cheer me up."
"We don't want to get rid of you," Drusilla told him, smiling.
But he knew that her loveliness was all for the Captain. She was
lighted up by the presence of her betrothed, made exquisite, softer,
more womanly. Love had come slowly to Drusilla, but it had come at
last.
When the Doctor left them, he was in a daze of loneliness. He wanted
Jean, he wanted sympathy, understanding, good-comradeship.
For just one little moment temptation assailed him. There was of
course, Hilda. She would bring with her the atmosphere of familiar
things which he craved.
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