Headline Nurse — Phyliss Ross

“I'm a nurse! Not a woman!

She kept repeating the words to herself as she looked down at Pete's broken body. His shirt was in rags, one trouser was ripped from ankle to knee, and there was a terrible gash on his forehead.

She took out bandages and antiseptic and began to dress the wounds -- all the time trying to forget that the battered man was the one she loved.

The others in the clinic had turned their backs for a moment. She leaned down quickly and brushed her lips against his bruised cheek. “Oh, my darling,” she cried softly. “My poor darling.”