"Well," he says, disguising in his big voice of command the warm
admiration which he feels for the lady, "what is the trouble to-day?
Speak up."
"Nothing, sir," she answers calmly. "Everything is going on pretty
well. No new cases of measles--those in hospital improving. The
only thing that bothers me is the continual complaint about that
Mrs. Van Orley--you remember her, a thin, dark little person. She
is melancholy and morose, quarrels all the time, says some one has
stolen her children. The people near her in the barracks complain
that she disturbs them at night, moans and talks aloud in her sleep,
jumps up and runs down the corridor laughing or crying: 'Here they
are!' They don't believe she ever had any children. They think
she is crazy and want her put out. But I don't agree with that. I
think she has had children, and now she has dreams."
"Send her away," growls the commandant; "send her to a sanatorium!
This camp is not a lunatic asylum."
"But," interposes the nurse in her most discreet voice, "she is
really a very nice woman.
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