"Preposterous," I said.

I added a few apposite remarks, to which he responded as best he
could. But, medically speaking, I was two days senior to him, so
that when the Sister heard the uproar and bustled up it was he who
was forbidden to speak. She then proceeded to clinch the matter by
inserting a thermometer in his mouth. I defy any man to argue under
such a handicap.

I finished all I had to say and relapsed into an expectant silence.
The Sister returned after a time, read the instrument and retired
without a word. As she passed my bed I saw out of the corner of my
eye that Ellis was watching feverishly. An inspiration seized me. I
stopped her, and in a low voice asked if she had fed her rabbits.
Sister isn't allowed to keep rabbits, but she does. As I hoped, she
put a finger to her lips, nodded and walked away.

"Poor old man," I murmured vaguely to the ward in general. "A
hundred-and-seven and still rising! Poor old Ellis!"

Ellis gave a little moan and collapsed under the bedclothes.

An hour later Burnett went his round. Burnett isn't the doctor, at
least not the official one. I must tell you something about Burnett.

He is the grandfather of the ward. Though quite a young man he
has grown fat through long lying in bed. He entered hospital, I
understand, towards the end of 1914, suffering from influenza. Since
then he has had a nibble at every imaginable disease, not to mention a