Very languidly the woman opened her eyes wide.
"Oh, isn't it?" she asked. "Then I won't wish, thank you."
"What are you talking about?" scolded the Young Doctor.
"About getting well," conceded the woman. Languidly the white eyelids closed again. "And if getting well isn't a game—I won't get well, either," affirmed the woman.
With a gasp of irritation the Young Doctor snatched up his hat and left the room.
But outside the door, neither up the hall nor down the hall, nor across the hall, was the nurse waiting where he had told her to wait. 8
"Oh, drat you women!" he grinned sheepishly. "Well, go ahead! One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—TEN!"