The nurse permitted herself a smile. "You're to be kept quiet for a day or two. Doctor's orders."
"Doctor's orders! Walter Clinton! What sort of a Bob Sawyer is he, to give orders? You know much more about things than he does, don't you now? You want to keep me to yourself, that's what it is."
"Indeed, you're very ungrateful. Dr. Clinton is a rising man in the profession. There isn't a doctor in London could have done better for you."
"You think so, Mrs. Gamp?"
"Yes, I do. It was lucky for you that he was there when you were shot."
"Yes, that was a piece of luck, wasn't it? He had a busy night of it. I say, who has been asking for me?"
"Oh, everybody, of course. You will have plenty of visitors when you are well enough to receive them."
"I'm well enough now. You're trying to keep me to yourself, Sarah. There's a sort of fatal fascination about me that no good-looking woman can resist? I say, do the doctors make love to you in the hospital?"
"I think you are getting light-headed. You have talked quite enough for the present. Would you like some jelly?"
"I should like some strawberries and cream and a pint of champagne. Look here, tell me about the doctors. Are there any good-looking fellows amongst them?"