"That black-browed German seems to be mighty fond of her."
"The Herr Doktor? Now you've said something, boy. Anybody can see that."
"Are they engaged—or anything?"
"Shouldn't wonder," Miss Trivett said briskly. "She's almost through here at the hospital, you know. The Powers That Be frown upon anything sentimental between the doctors and members of the nursing force. So they're very whist about it. She's likely to remove her cap and apron for good in a few days—and become, perhaps, Frau Doktor."
Sanderson fell silent, and Miss Trivett shortly screened the night lamp from his eyes, thinking he had fallen asleep. Behind the young airman's closed lids a jumble of thoughts were beating in his brain. When Doctor Potter came to read the chart at the head of his bed in the morning he scrutinized it for a second time.
"Tut! tut!" he muttered. Then: "What is the meaning of this sudden rise in temperature? Didn't you sleep well last night, Mr. Sanderson?"
CHAPTER III
CROSSED WIRES
There was a tiny apartment not too far from the hospital that Belinda Melnotte called home for these two years of her hospital training. It was presided over by Aunt Roberta.
Aunt Roberta was a short woman of brown complexion, with a buxom figure laced tightly into corsets that kept her very erect even in a "sleepy hollow" chair. She was always neatly gowned, neatly shod, and displayed well-kept hands and a spotless apron. She did the work of the apartment herself.