“What are you looking for, Tess?” the doctor called.
“Hairpins,” she replied, passing on and rummaging in a clothes-bag on the bunk.
They served their meal on their grub-box, sitting on Messner’s grub-box and facing him. He had stretched out on his bunk to rest, lying on his side, his head on his arm. In the close quarters it was as though the three were together at table.
“What part of the States do you come from?” Messner asked.
“San Francisco,” answered the doctor. “I’ve been in here two years, though.”
“I hail from California myself,” was Messner’s announcement.
The woman looked at him appealingly, but he smiled and went on:
“Berkeley, you know.”
The other man was becoming interested.
“U. C.?” he asked.
“Yes, Class of ’86.”
“I meant faculty,” the doctor explained. “You remin
