“You’re all devils,” said the New Zealand general. “You don’t care a damn about the patients so long as you have all the beds tidy by the time the doctor comes around. I’m a general, I am, and you can’t order me about, and if you think I’m going to shave at this time in the morning you are jolly well mistaken. I am down with dysentery, and don’t you forget it. I didn’t get through the Dardanelles to be murdered at Amiens.”

“That’s where you may be mistaken, general,” said the imperturbable girl. “I have to carry out orders, and if they lead to your death it’s not my responsibility. I’m paid a poor wage for this job, but I do my duty, rough or smooth, kill or cure.”

“You’re a vampire. That’s what you are.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“If ever I hear you’re going to marry a New Zealand boy I’ll warn him against you.”

“He’ll be too much of a fool to listen to you.”