The distinguished patient in the 16th-floor suite at Bethesda Naval Hospital on the edge of Washington had spent a quiet day. He had chatted easily with three visitors and had spent a good deal of time reading. He was improving. The awful little indignities which, had attended his early days in the hospital had ceased—he was allowed to have a razor and attendants no longer removed cords and metal instruments from his presence.
In the hours after his dinner he took full advantage of his convalescent privileges. He sat up late over his books....
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
