eter got up. "Excuse me, Arnold," he said; "I must shake in. But I'm
jolly glad you said what you did, and I hope you'll say it again, and
some more."
The older man smiled an answer, and the door closed. Then he sighed a
little, and stretched out his hand again for the Bible.
CHAPTER VI
The great central ward at No. 1 Base Hospital looked as gay as possible.
In the centre a Guard's band sat among palms and ferns, and an
extemporised stage, draped with flags, was behind, with wings constructed
of Japanese-figured material. Pretty well all round were the beds,
although many of them had been moved up into a central position, and
there was a space for chairs and forms. The green-room had to be outside
the ward, and the performers, therefore, came and went in the public
gaze. But it was not a critical public, and the men, with a plenitude
of cigarettes, did not object to pauses. On the whole, they were
extraordinarily quiet and passive. Modern science has made the
battlefield a hell, but it has also made the base hospital something
approaching a Paradise.
There were women in plenty. The staff had been augmented by visitors from
most of the other hospitals in the town, and there was a fair sprinkling
of W.A.A.C.'s, Y.M.C.A. workers, and so on, in addition. Jack Donovan
and Peter were a little late, and arrived at the time an exceedingly
popular subaltern was holding the stage amid roars of laughter. They
stood outside one of the many glass doors and peered in.
Once inside, one had to make one's way among beds and chairs, and the
nature of things brought one into rather more than the usual share of
late-comers' scrutiny, but nothing could abash Donovan. He spotted at
once a handsome woman in nurse's indoor staff uniform, and made for her.
She, with two others, was sitting on an empty bed, and she promptly made
room for Donovan. Graham was introduced, and a quiet girl moved up a bit
for him to sit down; but there was not much room, and the girl would not
talk, so that he s