“Oh, if I only could!” Doodles replied. “But,” a bit wistfully, “your father isn’t sure.”
“Almost, I guess,” nodded Polly. “If he hadn’t been he wouldn’t have urged you to come. My, I know what it is not to walk!”
Doodles looked at her in amazement. “You?” he cried.
“Yes. I was hurt, and couldn’t walk for ever so long. I know!” Her curls waved emphatically.
“Did you have an operation?”
“Oh, yes! That isn’t anything to mind,—you don’t know it!”
“No,” Doodles smiled—and shivered under the bedclothes.
They talked of many things,—Caruso, Lilith Brooks, Polly’s school, and the new hospital which was building.
Polly stayed until the nurse came, the one with dark hair and eyes, whom they called Miss Eden. Doodles liked her very much, her smile was so quick and so cheering.
After a while she brought him another cup of broth. It looked the same, she laughed, but tasted different. Doodles found it just as good as the first. He wondered why they did not give him something to eat with it, yet he asked no questions.