He was my sergeant, and seems to be alive." The shrewd gray eyes surveyed us quizzically.
"Exactly, I see," he replied.

"Love and war--the old story.

Ah! that brought a little red into your cheeks, my girl.

Well, it's good for you.
Which is the man ?--this one?
Here, Corporal, lift his head, and you, Jones, bring me the water; easy now." I drew her closer to me, our eyes on the surgeon and Miles.

The former worked with swift professionalism, forgetful of all else in his task, yet commenting audibly.
"Ah, a bad blow, a bad blow; however, skull intact; concussion merely.
Bullet wound right chest--must probe for it later; right arm broken; not likely to see any more of this war.