The only thing I've
been trained to do well is to nurse. I wasn't a bad nurse when the war
began. I'm an excellent nurse now. But it's Brian's nurse I must be. I
saw that, in the first hour after the news was broken, and our two lives
broken with it. I saw that, with me unable to earn a penny, and Brian's
occupation gone with his sight, we were about as helpless as a pair of
sparrows with their wings clipped.
If Brian in his secret soul had any such thoughts, perhaps he had faith
to believe that not a sparrow can fall, unless its fall is appointed by
God. Anyhow, he said never a word about ways and means, except to
mention cheerfully that he had "heaps of pay saved up," nearly thirty
pounds. Of course I answered that I was rich, too. But I didn't go into
details. I was afraid even Brian's optimism might be dashed if I did.
Padre, my worldly wealth consisted of five French bank notes of a
hundred francs each, and a few horrible little extra scraps of war-paper
and copper.
The hospital where Brian lay was near the front, in the remains of a
town the British had won back from the Germans. I called the place
Crucifix Corner: but God knows we are all at Crucifix Corner now! I
lodged in a hotel that had been half knocked down by a bomb, and patched
up for occupation. As soon as Brian was able to be moved, the doctor
wanted him to go to Paris to an American brain specialist who had lately
come over and made astonishing cures.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25