[76]ill. D'you know (with an ingenuous smile.) I'd really no idea what nursing was.
Janet. (Drily.) Hadn't you? Well, if you call that nursing, I don't. But it was the best I could do in this barracks, with the kitchen a mile and a half off, and a pack of men that can't understand English gaping at you all day in evening-dress. I dare say this is a very good hotel for reading newspapers in. But if you want anything that isn't on the menu, it's as bad as drawing money out of the post office savings bank. You should see me nurse in my own house.
Carve. I should like to. Even in this barracks (imitating her.) you've quite altered my views of life.
Janet. Yes, and they wanted altering. When I think of you and that other poor fellow wandering about all alone on that Continent—without the slightest notion of what comfort is.... Well, I'll say this—it's a pleasure to nurse you. Now, will you go back to bed?
Carve. I suppose coffee's on the menu?
Janet. Coffee?
Carve. I think I should like some café au lait, and a roll.
Janet. (Rising.) You can have hot milk if you like.
Carve. All right. And then when I've had it I'll go to bed.
Janet. (At telephone.) Are you there?