“I don’t think so—or not much. Anyway you won’t know it! Dr. Keith will give you gas first.”
“Gas?” repeated Doodles with a puzzled pucker of his forehead.
“Yes, laughing gas,—a new kind, I guess. It isn’t bad to take. It makes your head feel whirly inside, that’s all. I don’t know how ether feels, but they say it is—stuffy—stuffycating.” Polly still stumbled over an occasional long word.
“Oh, yes, that’s what Mrs. Corrigan said!”
“Who?”
“A woman I heard telling about it. She said she’d never, never take it again, she’d rather die in purgatory seventeen times!”
Polly giggled. “That’s a good many! I guess she didn’t go to an up-to-date hospital. Father makes everything so easy for people. Has that worried you—what she said?”
“A little,” Doodles nodded.
“Well, you needn’t worry any more, for you won’t mind the gas. You can breathe just as easy as you can now.”
“I’m so glad!” murmured Doodles. A mountain weight slid away from him.