The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. It isn't your duty. Confound this slavery of sex! I am a man! I will get this under if I am killed in doing it!” She scowled into the cold blacknesses about her. In the north they called her Manitou, in the south, Pabothkew. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. . CHAPTER III. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. "I understand, Sir," replied Davies, drawing a little aside. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals. . ’ Melusine’s instant annoyance must have shown in her face.
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