Part 15 (2/2)

I don't think I'm very good at it.

' ”It gets easier with practice,” said Sarre dryly.

”We'll stop for dinner, shall we?

There's a good place at Backhurst Mill.

' They dined unhurriedly and Alethea found herself relaxing under her companion's gentle flow of small talk.

The food was good and she found that she had quite an appet.i.te after all, and when Sarre remarked: ”T shall be operating in the morning, shall I see you?

'she answered readily that she hoped so, aware that she really meant it.

Sarre made no effort to hurry back.

They reached the hospital shortly before midnight and even then they stood talking for a few minutes in its entrance.

”Thank you for my dinner and bringing me back,” Alethea said politely, and then felt foolish at his: ”T hardly think that you need to thank me, my dear.

Such small services will be my privilege in the future.” ”Oh, yes, of course.” She smiled a little shyly at him, and then in a burst of confidence added: ”You know, when I got up this morning I'd made up my mind to say no.”

”And what made you change your mind?” he wanted to know quietly.

”T haven't the faintest idea.

' She smiled a little.

”But I won't change it again.

' He took her hand and then bent his head and kissed her, a quick light kiss which although it had meant nothing at all, stayed in her mind long after she had wished him goodnight and gone to her bed.

CHAPTER FOUR.

the day was well advanced before Alethea saw Sarre; she had sent a shattered leg to theatre, followed by a complicated fracture of the scapula and having supervised their safe return to their beds, had gone to her office to sort out the notes, fill in charts and catch up on the morning's work.

She was hot and a little untidy, for it was a warm morning and she hadn't paused since she had gone on duty at eight o'clock. She was also hungry and thirsty, for her dinner time had pa.s.sed, and she saw no chance of going down to the dining room.

Mary would make her a pot of tea and a sandwich presently and she could finish her writing while she took these homely refreshments, before going back on to the ward.

She was deciphering Sir Walter's notes, written in a spidery hand, when the door opened and Sarre walked in. He wasted no time in observing that she was busy but plunged at once into instructions about the shattered leg he had restored more or less to its original form that morning; only when he had finished did he ask: ”You've been to your lunch?

' and when she said that no, she hadn't, added: ”In that case could your estimable maid bring us a pot of tea?

Just while I explain the treatment for that shoulder.

' The tea came, sandwiches too, and Alethea pouring it, remarked:

”You've missed your lunch too, haven't you?

' She smiled at him and pushed her cap back a bit so that the curls escaped.

”Share these, I'll not have time to eat them all, anyway.

' She took a bite, surprised to find that she felt perfectly at ease with him, glad in fact that he was there.

She was pouring second cups when the door opened again and Nick came

in.

He stopped short when he saw Mr van Diederijk and the scowl on his good-looking face deepened.

Before he could say anything Sarre spoke.

”We're going over that case--the scapula, I'd like him on antibiotics

for a few days, to be on the safe side.

I have written it up.

' He lifted an eyebrow.

”Did you want to see Sister about one of the patients?

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