Miss Tillett's eyes widened. "Operation! I came here for a diagnosis. I didn't authorize—"
"I'm sorry. I operated without your consent. But I had a good reason. It wasn't even a benign tumor that you had. It was only a cyst. If I had merely diagnosed, and told you the truth, you would have kept clinging to the hope that it might be a malign tumor. You wouldn't have let me take it out. It would have grown big enough to disfigure you, not big enough to cause you any physical damage. You would have gone through the years with a new trouble, that of deformity, and you might have been mentally warped in the delusion that you had a fatal disease. You're as sound as a rock."
Something inside the girl seemed to turn into liquid. She sat with slumped shoulders, arms dangling limply at her side, and head sunk so far that her chin rested against her chest.
After a moment, she rose and walked slowly into the dressing cubicle. When she emerged, she ignored the doctor, unlocked the door with her own hands, and walked into the reception room, sobbing softly.
Dr. Needzak cleaned up rapidly, and hustled into his main office to see his next patient. No one was there. He grumbled to himself and opened the door into the reception room. Blinking, he saw that it was empty. It had been filling rapidly, not a half-hour earlier.
The doctor had heard no noises indicating a commotion on the street outside; and that was the only reason he could think of for the sudden disappearance of his patients. To make sure, he strode through the reception room, walked briskly down the short hall, and stuck his head through the door leading into the street. Everything appeared normal in the bustling business district, until a large, black sedan ground to a stop at the curb in a no-parking zone. The receptionist climbed from the vehicle, two men behind her.
"Miss Waters!" Dr. Needzak exploded, when she reached the building's entrance. "What do you mean by leaving without my permission? All my patients have left. They must have thought that office hours were over."
The receptionist gave him one baleful look, and shoved past him into the building. And Dr. Needzak suddenly recognized the two men.
"Bill Carson! And Pop Manville! What brings you big doctors down here to see a small-time pill-dealer like me?"
"Let's go into your office," Pop said, softly. He was old, tall and gaunt with a perpetual look of worry. Dr. Carson, younger and bustling, evaded Dr. Needzak's eyes.