She seemed to have foreseen this first request. In a moment the glass and tube were at his lips. She would not allow him to raise his head from the pillow. As he drank slowly the refreshing contents of the glass he examined her face with deeper appreciation than Belinda Melnotte imagined.
"I say," he sighed finally, "that was great! When did they bring me in?"
"This morning."
"I—I can't remember it," he murmured. "But I must have come down before daylight."
"You were brought downtown at nine o'clock," she told him cheerfully. "They found you and your machine in Van Cortlandt Park."
"Is that as far as I got?"
"And quite far enough, I should say," she quickly commented, and with disapproval. "Flying at night! What reckless creatures you airmen are!"
His face was suddenly twisted into a grimace of pain, but he managed to chuckle.
"Oh, some of us expect soon to be regular 'fly-by-nights.'" Then, quickly: "Ah, I remember. By jove, she slapped me!"
The nurse recalled his babblings when he was brought in, and laughed her low, delicious laugh.