“Wait!” cried the little nurse, who had been on duty all night. “I'll tell her what you say.”
Apparently it took some telling, for it was a full precious quarter of an hour before they appeared again.
“There, now, you see the effect of your authority. She would not budge for me, but—well—there she is! Look at her!”
There was no need for this injunction. Cameron's eyes were already fastened upon her. And she was worth any man's while to look at in her tramping costume of toque and blanket coat. Tall, she looked, beside the little nurse, lithe and strong, her close-fitting Hudson Bay blanket coat revealing the swelling lines of her budding womanhood. The dainty white toque perched upon the masses of gold-brown hair accentuated the girlish freshness of her face. At the nurse's words she turned her eyes upon Cameron and upon her face, pale with long night watches, a faint red appeared. But her eyes were quiet and steady and kind; too quiet and too kind for Cameron, who was looking for other signals. There was no sign of disturbance in that face.
“Come on!” he said impatiently. “We have only one hour.”
“Oh, what a glorious day!” cried Nurse Haley, drawing a deep breath and striding out like a man to keep pace with Cameron. “And how good of you to spare me the time!”
“I have been trying to get you alone for the last two weeks,” said Cameron.
“Two weeks?”
“Yes, for a month! I wanted to talk to you.”
“To talk with me? About what?”