Bob was glad of the opportunity to get out. “Come, Mother, I’ll get you back to bed.”
“Yes,” she said, in a voice that was a little above a whisper. “Things are going around and around.”
Bertha Cool pushed a chair to one side, strode over to the door, and kicked it shut.
Ashbury looked at her and said, “No.”
Bertha heaved a sigh. She was itching to pitch in and handle the situation, but a hundred dollars a day was a hundred dollars a day and instructions were instructions.
The nurse came toward the door. Bertha moved to one side. The nurse opened the door, and the doctor and Bob led Mrs. Ashbury down the corridor and into her bedroom. The door slammed. I heard the turn of a key in the lock.
Bertha Cool said, “Nuts.”
Ashbury said, “We can’t risk it, Donald. It’s all right if we stood a chance, but that doctor knows which side of the bread has the butter. This will look like hell in a divorce court.”
“You’re the boss,” I said. “Personally, I think you’ve scrambled the eggs.”
A door down the corridor was opened, slammed, then locked. Dr. Parkerdale came striding indignantly into the room. “You have all but killed her,” he said.