"Other men are pretty sure to want you," admonished the Senior Surgeon. "Have you made up your mind—definitely that you'll never marry anybody?"
"N—o, not exactly," confessed the White Linen Nurse.
An odd flicker twitched across the Senior Surgeon's face like a sob in the brain.
"What's your first name, Miss Malgregor?" he asked a bit huskily.
"Rae," she told him with some surprise.
The Senior Surgeon's eyes narrowed suddenly again.
"Damn it all, Rae," he said, "I—want you!"
Precipitously the White Linen Nurse scrambled to her feet. "If you don't mind, sir," she cried, "I'll run down to the brook and get myself a drink of water!"
Impishly like a child, muscularly like a man, the Senior Surgeon clutched out at the flapping corner of her coat.
"No you don't!" he laughed, "till you've given me my definite answer—yes or no!"