It's a
bully name. I know I'm ten years younger--but--"
"Good lack! Jordan King, call me anything you like! I'll appreciate it."
"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do it--Red," vowed the younger
man, with the flush again creeping into his cheek.
"Why didn't you long ago?" Burns demanded. "Surely dignity's no
characteristic of mine. If Anne Linton can call me 'Red Head' on no
acquaintance at all--"
"She didn't do that!" King looked a little as if he had received a blow.
"Only when she was off her head, of course. She took me for a wildcat
once, poor child. No, no--when she was sane she addressed me very
properly. She's back on the old decorous ground now. Made me a beautiful
little speech this morning, informing me that I had to stop calling her
'little girl,' for she was twenty-four years old. As she looks about
fifteen at the present, and a starved little beggar at that, I found it
a bit difficult to begin on 'Miss Linton,' particularly as I have been
addressing her as 'Little Anne' all the time."
"Starved?" King seemed to have paused at this significant word.
"Oh, we'll soon fill her out again. She's really not half so thin as
she might be under the old-style treatment. It strikes me you have a
good deal of interest in my patients, Jord. Shall I describe the rest of
them for you?"
Burns looked mischievous, but King did not seem at all disturbed.
"Naturally I am interested in a girl you made me bring to the hospital
myself.
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