The nurse, her blonde hair in a state of dishevelment, followed bearing the feet and legs. Arriving at a position inside the door, they deposited their burden on the floor where it instantly curled over on its side and emitted a sodden snore.
"It's Mr. Pillsworth," the nurse said breathlessly, shoving back her hair. "We brought him straight down without waiting for the orderlies." She looked up into the stunned faces staring back at her from around the table. Then her gaze fell to Marc.
"My God!" she gasped.
"Good Lord!" Marc groaned, taking in the stupid, smiling face of George.
"Jesus!" breathed the doctor.
"Amen," Toffee put in glibly. "Who's taking up the collection?"
Marc turned to Toffee. "It's that gosh-awful spook again!" he breathed. "He would have to show up now!"
"Actually," Toffee said, "he could not have shown up at a better time. I really was going to help you out, but now we have George."
Marc's eyes brightened with slow realization. "Of course," he said, then turned as he felt the doctor's hand on his shoulder. "Yes?"
"Mr. Pillsworth," the doctor said tensely. "You are Mr. Pillsworth, aren't you?"