“I’ll bet Tony Hazelden is in them!” said Zaidos.
The doctor chuckled. “Well, these girls! You never can tell,” he said. “She will tell you herself, I’ve no doubt.”
He got up and straightened his bent back. “This sort of thing is hard on an old man,” he said. “It is just two weeks since I have been to bed.”
“Well, this one feels good to me,” said Zaidos. “I was so surprised when I woke up and found something smooth and clean under me. I don’t see how the nurses manage to keep things so neat.”
“You would not wonder if you could see what they do,” said the doctor solemnly. “I tell you every woman who goes into the field deserves a place in the Legion of Honor. She deserves a crown, and a big pension. She’s an angel. You want to honor all women, all kinds, all your life, my boy, for the sake of these nurses. Some day, perhaps, I will come over to your America, if you would like to see an old derelict, and we will talk and talk, and I will tell you some stories.”
He touched Zaidos’ bandaged head gently, nodded farewell and walked on down the line of cots.
Zaidos continued to sleep and eat. His blood was so clean that his wounds healed almost at once. Helen came to his bedside one day with a queer little smile on her face.
“Do you remember, John, what I said when you brought Tony to me? I told you that just as soon as he was able to hold my hand, I meant to marry him.”
“Did you do it?” asked Zaidos.
“Not yet,” said Helen.