Miss Canfield's face grew defensive. She turned it away. "I had thought he was a very good patient," she said quietly.
Aunt Jane's glance flashed at her. The muslin cap covered a question. "I don't know as he's any better than any other patient," she said, watching her critically.... "He ought to be good—with his Suite—and everybody running and waiting on him all the time!"
A bell tinkled and buzzed on the board in the hall.
Aunt Jane's cap turned toward it. "That's him now, I suppose, wanting something!"
The nurse went to the board and scanned it. She reached up and threw off the number and turned down the hall toward Suite A.
Aunt Jane's gaze followed her reflectively. Then she turned to her desk. When Dr. Carmon arrived she was sitting quietly at work on her books.
"What's up?" he said brusquely as he came in.
"I hope you'll find out," said Aunt Jane. Her tone was tranquil.
He shrugged his shoulders and removed his coat—throwing it carelessly across a chair. He took up his little black bag.
Aunt Jane regarded the coat disapprovingly. She went across and shook it out and laid it in neat folds.