Barth turned argumentative.
“It is not a question of obligation; it is a mere matter of training and experience,” he observed.
“He is the best doctor in the city,” Nancy persisted.
“In Quebec?”
“No; at home.”
For the dozenth time since his catastrophe, Barth regretted the loss of his glasses. Nancy’s tone betrayed her irritation. Unable to see her face distinctly, he was also unable to fathom the cause of her displeasure. He peered at her dubiously for a moment; then he dropped back in his chair.
“Very likely,” he agreed languidly. “Now will you please move the foot-rest a very little to the right?”
“So?”
“Yes. Thank you, nurse.”
“Is there anything else?”