"On the contrary, I should and I did," Ferris answered. "We wanted something dramatic to show to the trustees and here it is."
"Yes, we wanted to show our proof to the trustees—but not broadcast unverified results to the press. It's too early for that!"
"Don't be so stuffy and conservative, Mitchell! Macklin's cured, isn't he? By established periodic cycle he should be suffering hell right now, shouldn't he? But thanks to our treatment he is perfectly happy, with no unfortunate side effects such as gynergen produces."
"It's a significant test case, yes. But not enough to go to the newspapers with. If it wasn't enough to go to the press with, it wasn't enough to try and breach the trustees with. Don't you see? The public will hand down a ukase demanding our virus, just as they demanded the Salk vaccine and the Grennell serum."
"But—"
The shrill call of the telephone interrupted Mitchell's objections.
Ferris excused himself and crossed to the instrument. He answered it and listened for a moment, his face growing impatient.
"It's Macklin's wife," Ferris said. "Do you want to talk to her? I'm no good with hysterical women."
"Hysterical?" Mitchell muttered in alarm and went to the phone.
"Hello?" Mitchell said reluctantly. "Mrs. Macklin?"