From the door she looked back. "I'll tell her Mr. Herman sent them."
The nurse who was bending over Herman Medfield, tucking the napkin into his coat, saw a quick flush come in the thin face. She seemed not to notice it as she placed the tray before him.
"Shall I cut your meat?"
"Yes—please."
He watched the efficient fingers cut the juicy steak in strips and he glanced at the face bending above the tray. The reddish hair drawn trimly up under the cap and the look of competence in the face and in the firm hands.
She gave him the knife and fork and glanced at the tray. "You have everything you need? Here's your bell."
She placed the cord where he could reach it and turned away.
But Herman Medfield's look stayed her. "You didn't know my name was Herman, did you?" He said it with a little quizzical smile.
"I thought it was Medfield," replied the girl. She looked at him with clear, straight eyes. "The flowers come to Herman Medfield."