There would be the easy give and take of
speech which was such a relief after his professional manner, there
would be his own teasing sense of how much she wanted, and of how
little he had to give. There would be, too, the stimulus to his vanity.
A broken-hearted Hilda, Drusilla had said. There was something
provocative in the situation--elements of drama. Why not?
He thought about it that night when once more back at his work he and
his head nurse discussed a case of shell shock--a pitiful case of fear,
loss of memory, complete prostration.
The nurse was a plain little thing, very competent, very quiet. She
was, perhaps, no more competent than Hilda in the mechanics of her
profession, but she had qualities which Hilda lacked. She was not very
young, and there were younger nurses under her. Yet in spite of her
plainness and quietness, she wielded an influence which was remarkable.
The whole hospital force was feeling the effect of that influence. It
was as if every nurse had in some rather high and special way dedicated
herself--as nuns might to the conventual life, or sisters of charity to
the service of the poor.
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