She looked at him. “I thought you were up all night. Don’t you go off duty to get some sleep?”
“Sleep?” he cried. “Who wants to sleep on a day like this! Just look at that sky! Say, this is perfect baseball weather, isn’t it?”
Jean giggled. “I’m right with you, Doctor. Let’s go.”
They entered the contagious ward, and Dr. Benson waited till Jean had recorded the temperatures and pulses of the patients. Then he went over to the bedside of a middle-aged woman. “Let’s hear that back,” he said gently, as he put the stethoscope to his ears.
A pleased grin spread across his face as he listened. “Now, the front,” he said, putting the instrument to the patient’s chest. “Say this sounds good. I can’t hear a thing!”
The woman’s eyes lit up and she smiled at him.
“If we catch this virus right away,” he explained, “we can lick it in no time. Now, if I send you home this week, will you behave yourself? No heavy chores for a while. Lots of rest.”
She nodded happily. He patted her hand and moved on to the next patient.
When the examinations were over, Dr. Benson took the stethoscope from around his neck and ran his hand through his red hair. He sighed happily. “And now to see Dr. Barsch about Mercyville,” he said. “Want to come along?”
Jean smiled and shook her head. “I want to, but I can’t. I’ve lots of work to do this morning.”