She hesitated. "Dr. Disbrow hasn't said——"
"And it's not your business to?" He smiled slightly. "I know hospital etiquette. But I have a particular reason for asking." He broke off and looked at her again, his veiled gaze sharpening to a glance of concentrated attention. "You're not one of the regular nurses, are you? Your dress seems to be of a different colour."
She smiled at the "seems to be," which denoted a tardy and imperfect apprehension of the difference between dark-blue linen and white.
"No: I happened to be staying at Hanaford, and hearing that they were in want of a surgical nurse, I offered my help."
Amherst nodded. "So much the better. Is there any place where I can say two words to you?"
"I could hardly leave the ward now, unless Mrs. Ogan comes back."
"I don't care to have you call Mrs. Ogan," he interposed quickly. "When do you go off duty?"
She looked at him in surprise. "If what you want to ask about is—anything connected with the management of things here—you know we're not supposed to talk of our patients outside of the hospital."
"I know. But I am going to ask you to break through the rule—in that poor fellow's behalf."
A protest wavered on her lip, but he held her eyes steadily, with a glint of good-humour behind his determination. "When do you go off duty?"