Transvestia

Miss Quinn thought she caught something familiar in the voice--but it wasn't--

"I'm in the correct uniform, am I not?" asked the student again. By this time they were alone and Miss Quinn asked, "It is you, isn't it?"

"It was when I left this morning." came the assured reply.

"Mister Boyle," snapped Miss Quinn, "I find levity a poor quality in a student nurse.'

"Mister" Boyle simpered for a moment. "With all due respect, Miss Quinn, you are the one who required. this. I find it highly amusing.' The student left.

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While she recovered from the dual shock of relief at finding the student and the actual appearance of him--the neat blue uniform, the white shoes, fault- lessly groomed hair, neat makeup, she became aware of something else. This was no babe-in-arms. Shelt- ered life or no sheltered life, this kid apparently knew the score. And he had the measure of Miss Quinn, whether by deduction or a lucky guess.

Miss Quinn had a definite feeling of being hope- lessly one-down.

During the next several weeks, she had ample opportunity to see MR. Boyle. In his classes, he was competent, in the wards, he was adequate. He asked intelligent questions, he gave intelligible answers, admitting ignorance when he could not supply an answer, rather than trying bluff his way out. And always, always he was a model student as far as personal habits goes.

It was

a policy of the school to set up an ad- visor program for each student. The purpose was to help each student not only with academic work, but also with the inevitable emotional problems the student nurse must face: the ideals of personal

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