A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Like a petulant child he snapped. All RNs were familiar with blood stains. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. \"Those look heavy. “All right so far,” she said to herself. . You care for me just a little, I know.
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