“Soaking in sunshine,” was his simple response.
“You’re supposed to be sick—for another day, at least.”
“Sick? Hell! I’m all right. All I needed was sleep. And I guess I got it.”
“But, man, you may take cold in those wounds.”
“I’ll be hanged if I’m going to stay in there and be fed beef tea while the rest of you people enjoy yourselves outside on a day like this!”
“Were you on that smashed train we had to clear off the track?”
“Yes,” said Nathan. Briefly he recounted his experience. Doctors and nurses gathered around as he talked. Madelaine was not among them.
“Fortunes of war!” observed one of the surgeons philosophically, when the terse recital was ended. “Think of all the poor devils who have failed to make their hill tops in time.”
“Can I ever forgot them?” asked Nathan huskily. “I wish I could!”