“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
I could see indignation in his eyes. “She told me I could go to hell — I mean literally, Mr. Lam.”
“I’m not surprised.”
He pressed a button. The nurse promptly opened the door.
“Mr. Lam is calling for Mrs. Cool. She’s ready to leave?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Very well.”
“The bill paid?” I asked him, taking the statement he’d mailed to the office out of my pocket.
He avoided my eyes. “It’s been settled. Mrs. Cool made a protest, and we adjusted the — er — fees.”