“I don’t know a thing about that,” said the surgeon, intent upon his work. “Now just a minute while I wash this. It won’t hurt. Did it? There now.” The dressing was complete.
“If your chest hurts too much have Meadows call me, but I think it will be all right.”
“Who’s Meadows?”
“That’s the little dark-haired nurse. They call each other by their last names and sometimes we do too.”
“I’ve noticed her,” Hamilton’s eyes suddenly wandered off into space. “Looks a lot like a girl I know back home.”
Dr. Levin smiled and patted Hamilton’s shoulder.
“You’ll be with that girl back home sooner than you think. Here, take this cigarette. A little smoking won’t hurt you.”
“I’m dying for a smoke,” said Hamilton, thrusting out a trembling hand. “It’s my first smoke in—What is the date?”
Dr. Levin told him.
“In six weeks! Six weeks! God!”