"He doesn't want it," said the nurse. "He said, 'take it away.'" Her lips smiled, ever so little, as she watched the round face in its cap.
The cap strings did not exactly bristle; but there was a look of firmness in the plump chin.
"Take it back," said Aunt Jane. "Tell him it is what was ordered for him. He is to eat it—eat all of it."
She spoke back over her shoulder, half turned away. "I've got a good many things on my hands this morning. I can't be bothered with fussy folks and notions." She passed on and disappeared in the door of Room 18.
The nurse, with her tray, returned to Suite A. She opened the door softly and went in.
Two minutes later, she emerged, still with her tray—and a high, clear color in her face.
Aunt Jane coming out of Room 18, caught a glimpse of her and stopped.
The nurse shook her head, the color in her cheeks mounting. "He doesn't want it." Her eyes twinkled a little in spite of the color that flooded up.
Aunt Jane reached out her hands for the tray. She gave a half-impatient click. "More bother'n they worth!" she said. "Always are in that room!"
She bore the tray before like a charger, and entered Suite A without parley.