Panama loosened one of his hands from Elinor’s and reached for a plug of tobacco in his blouse pocket. “Yeah. He don’t know it, but I am.”
“I think that’s immense of you,” she said, with a ring of sincerity in her voice.
The sergeant indifferently bit off a large chew of tobacco and placed the remainder of the plug back in his pocket. “Aw, that’s nothin’. He’s a good kid! You know somethin’, Elinor? He’s got blue blood in his veins—an’ he’s been to college too! You should hear that guy talk! Baby, what an awful lot of language he has parked under his bean. When we get back, I want you to know him better, ’cause I think you’d like each other!”
At that moment, one of the medical officers looked in and beckoned to Elinor.
“Miss Martin!”
She turned and, seeing the M.O., rose, replying, “I’ll be right in, Doctor!”
Panama watched her every movement as she crossed the room to her desk and picked up some report cards. He did not know how long it would be before they met again—if ever, and he wanted these last few seconds to be his to remember always.
She went to the door and, placing her hand on the knob, about to enter the Medical Officer’s room, then remembered that this was a parting with a good friend. She turned and came back to the little table which the sergeant was resting against.
She held out her hand which he took and clasped warmly. “You’re going, Panama,” she said tenderly, “I almost forgot. Good-by—and—and lots of luck!”
Williams held her hand, trying for all the world to say something but as usual, he became inarticulate and unable to find the proper words.