"I only meant you don't even know their names."

"That wasn't necessary for giving them a bed and bandages. Do you
suppose the good Samaritan ever asked the wounded Jew's name, and that
the Levite did not excuse himself because the thieves had taken the
poor man's card-case? Do the directions, 'In case of accident,' in your
ambulance rules, read, 'First lay the sufferer on his back and inquire
his name and family connections'? Besides, you can call one 'Ned' and
the other 'George,' if you like."

"Oh, you know what I mean," said Kate, irrelevantly. "Which is George?"

"George is the wounded man," said Mrs. Hale; "NOT the one who talked
to you more than he did to any one else. I suppose the poor man was
frightened and read dismissal in your eyes."

"I wish John were here."

"I don't think we have anything to fear in his absence from men whose
only wish is to get away from us. If it is a question of propriety,
my dear Kate, surely there is the presence of mother to prevent any
scandal--although really her own conduct with the wounded one is not
above suspicion," she added, with that novel mischievousness that seemed
a return of her lost girlhood. "We must try to do the best we can with
them and for them," she said decidedly, "and meantime I'll see if I
can't arrange John's room for them."

"John's room?"