Every one was most kind, but it was depressing not to have any breakfast. Mummy's cold seemed to get worse, and one of the nurses suggested that it would be better if she did not come as far as the operating-room lest she should give it to Teddy.
His heart was thumping in his ears. He kissed mummy, he kissed Colin Dougal, who simpered sweetly as usual (his leg hardly showed at all) and was quite unmoved; and then, with lips that trembled, he whispered "Bave Bittish officer" to himself over and over again.
He put one hand into that of the kind nurse, and held his button with the other, and together they went down a long passage into a room that was walled and floored with white tiles. It had no chairs in it, only tables, one of them long and narrow and high, right in the middle of the room. Two doctors were waiting for them, and the one Teddy had seen at the hotel had his coat off as if he was going to play some game. He looked very kindly at Teddy as they came in. "You're a man," he said. "I can see that."
"I sall not ky," Teddy said in rather a shaky voice. "I sall not ky, because I'm going to be a soldier, and they don't, you know."
"I guessed that, the minute I saw you," said the doctor. "We like soldiers here, they get well extra quick. Up with you, and you mustn't mind when we put that funny thing over your face."
Teddy lay down on the high narrow table. He looked up anxiously at the doctor he didn't know. "You won't take my button away, will you, not when you make me go to sleep?"
"Keep a tight hold of it," said the doctor, "and you'll find it there when you wake up. No one would dream of touching it."
A soft rubber mask was pressed on Teddy's face; it was not pleasant, but it did not hurt. Then came a roaring in his ears like the burn at Kingussie when it had rained more than usual.
"A—bave Bittish—Guadaloupe, Martinique——"
The burn had swept little Teddy away into oblivion, but even there the small hand was closed tightly over the soldier's button.