His tone irritated me. It may be true that I am considered something of a martinet, especially among the student nurses, but somebody has to see to things.
“Nonsense,” I spoke sharply. “I want money just as much as anybody.”
I suppose my words rang sincere, for Dr. Letheny sat up.
“What is your repressed desire, Sarah Keate?” he demanded with just the shade of amusement in his voice that always riled me. “Come on, out with it! Do you long for the gay night life? Or have you secret urges to become a front-page sensation?”
And I must say that, in the light of what was to occur, it was remarkable that he said just that.
“She might make a splendid aviatrix,” said Jim Gainsay, smiling into the dusk.
After that I was not going to tell them that above all things I longed to travel and that everybody knows travel costs money. I said curtly:
“Everybody wants money.”
“How about you, Maida?” broke in Corole rather maliciously.
Maida is, as a rule, almost too perfect at the art of concealing her emotions. It may have been that the semi-darkness of the room concealed an intended air of frivolousness, or it may have been that the threat of the approaching storm plucked at her nerves and pierced her habitual armour of reserve. At any rate her answer was unexpected.