"My dear Charlotte, _you_ went to pieces, if you like."

"I know that's what you told Mac. And _he_ knows how true it is."

"Does he? Well--he shan't have my ambulances. You don't suppose I'm
going to let McClane fire me out of Belgium?... I suppose he put you up
to this...."

He stood up as a sign to her to leave him. "I don't see that there's
anything more to be said."

"There's one thing." (She slid to her feet.) "_You_ swore you'd stick
till the war's over. _I_ swore, if I had to choose between you and the
wounded, it shouldn't be you."

"You haven't got to choose. You've only got to obey orders...."

His face stiffened. He looked like some hard commander imposing an
unanswerable will.

"... The next time," he said, "you'll be good enough to remember that I
settle what risks are to be taken, not you."

Her soul stiffened, too, and was hard. She stood up against him with her
shoulder to the door.

"It sounds all right," she said. "But the _next time_ I'll carry him on
my back all the way."