Now and again across the mutually ghost-haunted chasm that separated them flashed the incontrovertible signal of sex and sense, as once when a new Interne, grossly bungling, stepped to the hospital window with a colleague to watch the Senior Surgeon's car roll away as usual with its two feminine passengers. "What makes the Chief so stingy with that big handsome girl of his?" queried the new Interne a bit resentfully. "He won't ever bring her into the hospital!--won't ever ask any of us young chaps out to his house! And some of us come mighty near to being eligible, too!--Who's he saving her for, anyway?--A saint?--A miracle-worker?--A millionaire medicine man?--They don't exist, you know!" "I'm saving her for myself!" snapped the Senior Surgeon most disconcertingly from the doorway. "She--she happens to be my wife, not my daughter,--thank you!" When the Senior Surgeon went home that night he carried a big bunch of magazines and a box of candy as large as his head tucked courtingly under his arm. Now and again across the chasm that separated them flashed the incontrovertible signal of mutual trust and appreciation, as when once, after a particularly violent vocal outburst on the Senior Surgeon's part, he sobered down very suddenly and said: "Rae Malgregor,--do you realize that in all the weeks we've been together you've never once nagged me about my swearing? Not a word,--not a single word!" "I'm not very used to--words," smiled the White Linen Nurse hopefully. "All I know how to nag with is--is raw eggs! If we could only get those nerves of yours padded just once, sir! The swearing would get well of itself." In August the Senior Surgeon suggested sincerely that the house was much too big for the White Linen Nurse to run all alone, but conceded equally sincerely, under the White Linen Nurse's vehement protest, that servants, particularly new servants did creak considerably round a house, and that maybe "just for the present" at least, until he finished his very nervous paper on brain tumors perhaps it would be better to stay "just by ourselves." In September the White Linen Nurse wanted very much to go home to Nova Scotia to her sister's wedding but the Senior Surgeon was trying a very complicated and worrisome new brace on the Little Girl's leg and it didn't seem quite kind to go. In October she planned her trip all over again. She was going to take the Little Crippled Girl with her this time. But with their trunks already packed and waiting in the hall, the Senior Surgeon came home from the hospital with a septic finger--and it didn't seem quite best to leave him.