“Nor is that quite the way we look at,” said Sister Anne.
“We?” demanded Sam.
Sister Anne nodded toward a group of nurse
“I'm not the only nurse here,” she said “There are over forty.”
“You are the only one here,” said Sam, “who is not! That's Just what I mean—I appreciate the work of a trained nurse; I understand the ministering angel part of it; but you—I'm not talking about anybody else; I'm talking about you—you are too young! Somehow you are different; you are not meant to wear yourself out fighting disease and sickness, measuring beef broth and making beds.”
Sister Anne laughed with delight.
“I beg your pardon,” said Sam stiffly.
“No—pardon me,” said Sister Anne; “but your ideas of the duties of a nurse are so quaint.”
“No matter what the duties are,” declared Sam; “You should not be here!”
Sister Anne shrugged her shoulders; they were charming shoulders—as delicate as the pinions of a bird.