So acute was her embarrassment that she might have turned back at the last moment, had her eyes not fallen on the cot nearest the door.  There, lying asleep, with his injured leg suspended from a pulley from which depended two heavy weights, lay Bowinski.

Miss Mink slipped into the chair between his cot and the wall.  After the first glance at his pale unshaven face and the pain-lined brow, she forgot all about herself.  She felt only overwhelming pity for him, and indignation at the treatment to which he was being subjected.

By and by he stirred and opened his eyes.

“Oh you came!” he said, “I mean you not to know I be in hospital.  You must have the kindness not to trouble about me.”

“Trouble nothing,” said Miss Mink, husky with emotion, “I never knew a thing about it until to-day.  What have they got you harnessed up like this for?”

Then Alexis with difficulty found the English words to tell her how his leg had not set straight, had been re-broken and was now being forced into proper position.

“It is like hell, Madame,” he concluded with a trembling lip, then he drew a sharp breath, “But no, I forget, I am in the army.  I beg you excuse my complain.”

Miss Mink laid herself out to entertain him.  She unpacked her basket, and spread her meagre offerings before him.  She described in detail all the surgical operations she had ever had any experience with, following some to their direst consequences.  Alexis listened apathetically.  Now and then a spasm of pain contracted his face, but he uttered no word of complaint.

Only once during the afternoon did his eyes brighten.  Miss Mink caught the sudden change in his expression and, following his glance, saw Lois Chalmers coming through the ward.  She had thrown aside her heavy fur coat, and her slim graceful little figure as alert as a bird’s darted from cart to cot as she tossed packages of cigarettes to right and left.

“Here you are, Mr. Whiskers!” she was calling out gaily to one.  “This is for you, Colonel Collar Bone.  Where’s Cadet Limpy?  Discharged?  Good for him!  Hello, Mr. Strong Man!” For a moment she poised at the foot of Bowinski’s cot, then recognizing Miss Mink she nodded: 

“So you found your soldier?  I’m going back to town in ten minutes, I’ll take you along if you like.”

She flitted out of the ward as quickly as she had come, leaving two long rows of smiling faces in her wake.  She had brought no pity, nor tenderness, nor understanding, but she had brought her fresh young beauty, and her little gift of gayety, and made men forget, at least for a moment, their pain-racked bodies and their weary brains.

Miss Mink reached her cottage that night weary and depressed.  She had had nothing to eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare supper.  She made her a cup of tea which she drank standing, and then crept into bed only to lie staring into the darkness tortured by the thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski’s injured leg.