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is the best we can do at the moment. You don’t mind being in a room with me?”

“I’ll be thankful to have you with me, Buzzy,” answered Patricia gratefully. “I may take a fit, or something.”

“Not room enough to have a fit while I’m in here, old thing,” said Buzzy, as she threw the suit-cases on one of the beds. “Take a seat while I get into my overalls.”

Patricia sat on the bed indicated and removed her gloves thoughtfully.

“I feel that I’m going to be in the way, Buzzy, under the circumstances———”

“Then feel something else,” interrupted Buzzy from the folds of the dress which she was drawing over her head. “I want you here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Haven’t seen you in years, for one thing. For another thing, I want your assistance.”

Buzzy donned her uniform, avoiding Patricia’s surprised eyes.

“Tell you the truth, Pat, I was a little undecided about how to treat your case until you mentioned the other woman having been killed in Napier. Then the idea came to me, and I almost fell over backwards.”

Patricia sensed the effort with which the other affected an easy manner.

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“You are not going to ask me to help you nurse people—people from over there?”

“There is nothing you need get excited about, my dear. Nothing—er—gory, or anything like that———”

“But, I’ve never done nursing of any kind———”

“You want work, Pat,” declared Buzzy, turning to face her guest as she fastened her skirt with difficulty. “Work which will take you out of yourself. As far as I can gather, you are simply wandering about the country looking for a place in which to die. Well, you’re not going to die. You’re going to