"Splendid!" cried Burnham enthusiastically. "Now, let's have 'Gunga Din'—you do it so well! How does it go? 'You're a better drink than I am, Gordon Gin!'"
"No, no!" said the major deprecatingly. "You mustn't abuse Kipling—it's too early in the evening."
Whether the major intended abusing that famous author at a later hour, or merely reciting from him, we didn't enquire. We talked until late, formulating our plans for the morrow and for many days to come. We made a tour of inspection about the building. The colonel unfolded his plans as we walked along the halls.
"This suite," he said, as we came to the end of the hall, "will make a splendid pair of operating rooms, an anæsthetic and a sterilising room. The fifth will do for a dressing room for the surgeons, and in the sixth Reggy will have full sway—that will be his eye and ear reformatory. On the left we'll install our X-ray plant, so that all surgical work may be done in this one wing."
"What about the hotel furnishings," I enquired, "are they to remain in places?"
"Everything must go, except what is absolutely necessary to the comfort or care of patients," he replied. "It seems a pity, but we are here not only to cure patients, but to protect the Government from needless expense. In the morning set the men to work dismantling the entire building."
We walked along to the opposite end of the hall.
"Here's a fine room," exclaimed Major Baldwin, as he peeped into the dainty boudoir which I had chosen as a bedroom. "Who sleeps in this luxurious state?"
"I do—for to-night," I replied.
"I want that room for myself," he declared. "It looks like the best in the place."