Zaidos folded this letter with the pleased consciousness that he had written a lot of news.
The next was for the doctor.
“Dear Doctor,” he wrote, “I’m at the Hazeldens; and they are about the nicest people in the world. Among other members of the family, Mrs. Hazelden, who was Miss Helen, has a sister who seems a pleasant young lady. I will soon leave for America; and except for leaving the Hazeldens, as well as Helen’s sister, who seems real pleasant, I shall be glad to go. I do hate to hang around and do nothing. A million people come here every day and work for the soldiers. I think the men would appreciate it if they could know the amount of tea it takes to keep them going here while they sew.
“The money is all fixed up. I do hope you will enjoy spending it. Let me hear from you some day, doctor. Perhaps that is asking a good deal, but it would be fine if you could spare time.
“I often think of Velo. Somehow he seems different to me now. There were a lot of things about Velo that used to make me mad, but which now I do not seem to remember. It is a great pity that he died. Perhaps if he had lived, and I had taken him back to school with me, he would have had a different life. I don’t know. Anyway, somehow I think of him a good deal, and I’m glad I do, because it must be awful to have no one at all to think of you after you are dead.
“I will write again when I get back to America, doctor. Don’t forget me and don’t forget that I am going to try to be as great a surgeon as you are.
“Your friend,
“Zaidos.”
The third letter was written in modern Greek, using the familiar “thee” and “thou” of intimate speech.
“My old Nurse Maratha:
“The war kept me from thee, when at last I could get away. I would have come to Saloniki if I could but I had an errand that took me straight to England.