On the whole the Sisters loathe relations. They look into the ward and see the mothers and sisters and wives camped round the beds, and go back into the bunk feeling that the ward doesn't belong to them.
The eldest Sister said to me yesterday: "Shut the door, nurse; there's Captain Fellows's father. I don't want him fussing round."
On that we discussed relations, and it seemed to me that it was inevitable that a Sister should be the only buffer between them and their pressing anxieties.
"No, a relation is the last straw.... You don't understand!" she said.
I don't understand, but I am not specialized.
Long ago in the Mess I said to my Sister, laughing: "I would go through the four years' training just to wear that cap and cape!"
And she: "You couldn't go through it and come out as you are...."
Mr. Wicks has set his heart on crutches.
"If you won't try me on them I'll buy me own and walk out of here!"