"Yes, I will."
"No, you won't.
You've never been operated on.
You don't know how you'll be."
"I'll be all right."
"You'll be sick and I won't be anything to you."
"Come back then now."
"No," she said. "I have to do the chart, darling, and fix you up."
"You don't really love me or you'd come back again."
"You're such a silly boy." She kissed me. "That's all right for the chart.
Your temperature's always normal.
You've such a lovely temperature."
"You've got a lovely everything."
"Oh no.
You have the lovely temperature.
I'm awfully proud of your temperature."
"Maybe all our children will have fine temperatures."
"Our children will probably have beastly temperatures."
"What do you have to do to get me ready for Valentini?"
"Not much. But quite unpleasant."
"I wish you didn't have to do it."
"I don't.
I don't want any one else to touch you.
I'm silly.
I get furious if they couch you."
"Even Ferguson?"
"Especially Ferguson and Gage and the other, what's her name?"
"Walker?"
"That's it.
They've too many nurses here now.
There must be some more patients or they'll send us away.
They have four nurses now."
"Perhaps there'll be some.
They need that many nurses.
It's quite a big hospital."
"I hope some will come.
What would I do if they sent me away?
They will unless there are more patients."
"I'd go too."
"Don't be silly.
You can't go yet.
But get well quickly, darling, and we will go somewhere."
"And then what?"
"Maybe the war will be over.
It can't always go on."
"I'll get well," I said. "Valentini will fix me."
"He should with those mustaches.
And, darling, when you're going under the ether just think about something else--not us.
Because people get very blabby under an anaesthetic."
"What should I think about?"