"Oh, for Heaven's sake—'buzzed' in the trees!" interpolated the Senior
Surgeon.
Rigidly from head to foot the little body in his arms stiffened suddenly. As one who saw the supreme achievement of a life-time swept away by some one careless joggle of an infinitesimal part, the Little Girl stared up agonizingly into her father's face. "Oh, I don't think—'buzzed' was the word!" she began convulsively. "Oh, I don't think—!"
Startlingly through the twilight the Senior Surgeon felt the White Linen
Nurse's rose-red lips come smack against his ear.
"Darn you! Can't you say 'crocheted' in the trees?" sobbed the White
Linen Nurse.
Grotesquely for an instant the Senior Surgeon's eyes and the White Linen
Nurse's eyes glared at each other in frank antagonism.
Then suddenly the Senior Surgeon burst out laughing. "Oh, very well!" he surrendered. "'Crocheted in the trees'!"
Precipitously the White Linen Nurse sank back on her heels and began to clap her hands.
"Oh, now I will! Now I will!" she cried exultantly.
"Will what?" frowned the Senior Surgeon.
Abruptly the White Linen Nurse stopped clapping her hands and began to wring them nervously in her lap instead. "Why—will—will!" she confessed demurely.