“Darn you! Can’t you say ‘crocheted in the trees’?” sobbed the White Linen Nurse.
Grotesquely for an instant the Senior Surgeon’s eyes and the White Linen Nurse’s eyes glared at each other in rank antagonism. Then suddenly the Senior Surgeon burst out laughing.
“Oh, very well,” he surrendered—“‘crocheted in the trees!’”
The White Linen Nurse sank back on her heels and began to clap her hands.
“Oh, now I will! Now I will!” she cried exultantly.
“Will what?” frowned the Senior Surgeon.
The White Linen Nurse stopped clapping her hands and began to wring them nervously in her lap instead.
“Why, will—will,” she confessed demurely.
“Oh!” exclaimed the Senior Surgeon. “Oh!” Then jerkily he began to pucker his eyebrows. “But, for Heaven’s sake, what’s the ‘crocheted in the trees’ got to do with it?” he asked perplexedly.
“Nothing much,” mused the White Linen Nurse, very softly. With sudden alertness she turned her curly blonde head toward the road. “There’s somebody coming,” she said. “I hear a team.”