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A nurse stepped up to the doctor's desk: "A new girl is here ready for duty Is there any special place you want her put?" she asked in a low tone

The doctor looked up with a frown: "One of those half-trained Arowled "Well, every little helps I'd give a good deal for half a dozen fully trained nurses just now Suppose you send her to relieve Miss Jennings She can't do any harm to number twenty-nine"

"Isn't there any hope for him?" the nurse asked, a shade of sadness in her eyes

"I'm afraid not!" said the doctor shortly "He won't take any interest in living, that's the trouble He isn't dying of his wounds So to find out what He shuts up like a clam"

The new nurse flushed outside the door as she heard herself discussed and shut her firm little lips in a deter rows of cots to an alcove at the end where a screen shut the patient froave a few directions and she was left with her patient She turned toward the cot and stopped with a soft gasp of recognition, her face grohite and set as she took in the dear fa face before her Every word she had heard outside the doctor's office rang distinctly in her ears He was dying He did not want to live With another gasp that was like a sob she slipped to her knees beside the cot, forgetful of her duties, of the ward outside, or the possible return of the nurses, forgetful of everything but that he was there, her hero of the years!

She reached for one of his hands, the one that was not bandaged, and she laid her soft cheek against it, and held her breath to listen Perhaps even now behind that quiet face the spirit had departed beyond her grasp

There was no flutter of the eyelids even She could not see that he still breathed, although his hand was not cold, and his face when she touched it still seeony of fear, and laid her lips against his cheek, and then her face softly, with one hand about his other cheek Her lips were close to his ear now

"John!" she whispered softly, "John! My dear knight!"