From across the room the watching nurse said: "She should be kept quiet, Mr. Williams."
I relaxed and sat back. "We'll forget it, Nanette—not talk about it now, because—"
"Yes, forget it. They say, these surgeons—"
"Nanette, listen—we're rich! You didn't know that. The city government here has awarded us—the four of us—and some for San—some of the Turber gold. In 1945, Nanette, what we four have will be accounted at nearly a million dollars."
She was trying to speak, but I talked fast against it. "You've always wanted to live in the country, haven't you? So does Lea. We're going to buy—Alan and I are—two little homes—near each other, understand—out in the country somewhere in our world of 1945. Where there will be trees and flowers—and the beautiful sky over us."
"Edward, I'd rather you went away. You understand? It's wonderful of you—your plans and all that."
"Nanette, you're talking nonsense!"
"All right. Perhaps I am. They say my hair can be made to grow long again very quickly, Edward." Her voice was trying to be jocular. "That will help, won't it? And yesterday a surgeon was here from Great London. A specialist in plastic surgery—"
The nurse called: "Better go now, Mr. Williams. Not tire her."