It is hard sometimes to be patient with older people, playing their own rôles so busily they lose all sense of other individualities. Aurelia, Lita imagined, was probably the calmest person in the infirmary.
In Room 11 she found her roommate lying on her side, very pale, with her dark hair dragged back and tightly braided. The nurse was moving in and out and the two girls were practically alone, while the following dialogue took place.
"Pain?"
"Oh, my!"
"Poor kid!"
"Lita, in my shoe box there are five pictures of Gene Valentine, and a note—"
"From him?"
"No, dodo, from me—a rough draft. Get them, will you?"
"You bet!"