"We were very lucky," the fellow continued offensively.
"Were we?"
"Yes. You haven't really been hurt at all. According to the report, you've no internal injuries, and only a few bruises that won't show at all, since they're located...."
"Never mind!" Marc cut in hastily, glancing toward the screen. "I'll find out where they are for myself."
The interne lounged his way across the room, and dangerously rested his arm on the top edge of the screen. Marc wondered if he were going to have a relapse. He almost wished he were still unconscious.
"I—I'll be permitted to leave the hospital, won't I?" he asked shakily.
The young man nodded. "You're perfectly all right. You'll just need to take it easy for a day or so. We might have kept you here for observation, but the hospital is too crowded. We tried to call your wife, but she was out."
"Fine!" said Marc. "And where is my brief case?"
"Brief case?" the fellow asked stupidly.
"Yes. Brief case. The one I was carrying when I was hit."