"If he's going to be upset _like that_ every time he'd better go home."
They were talking--she knew they were talking about John.
"Hallo, Charlotte, we haven't left you much tea."
"It doesn't matter."
Her hunger left her suddenly. She stared with disgust at the remains of
the tea the McClane Corps had eaten.
Sutton went on. "He hasn't been sleeping properly. I've made him
go to bed."
"If you can keep him in bed for the duration of the war--"
"Are you talking about John?"
"We are."
"I don't know what you're driving at; but I suppose he was sick on
that beastly battlefield. It's all very well for you two; you're a
trained nurse and Billy's a surgeon.... You aren't taken that way when
you see blood."
"Blood?" said Mrs. Rankin.
"Yes. Blood. He was perfectly all right yesterday."
Mrs. Rankin laughed. "Yesterday he couldn't see there was any danger. You
could tell that by the idiotic things he said."
"I saw it. And if I could he could."
"Funny kid. You'd better get on with your tea. You'll be sent out again
before you know where you are."
Charlotte settled down. Sutton was standing beside her now, cutting bread
and butter.
"Hold on," he said. "That tea's all stewed and cold. I'll make you
some of mine."
She drank the hot, fragrant China tea he brought her.