Jean turned around to see Gerald Benson, the new intern, coming down the hall. “Oh, good morning, Dr. Benson,” she said. She started to pass him, but he blocked her path.
“I’ve just been having a lecture on the glories of one Miss Jean Craig,” Dr. Benson said. “They sure go for you around here.”
Jean stared at him in surprise. “Whatever are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I was ambling through the lobby with Dr. Barsch this noon and just happened to comment on the painting over the mantel down there. And the good doctor ups and tells me that you did it!”
Jean giggled. “I’m afraid I did,” she admitted. “It’s not so glorious, though,” she added.
“It’s good enough. I didn’t know you were an artist.”
Jean smiled. “I’m not. Not really. I studied for a year in New York. And I like to paint for pleasure. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping to do something with my art work combined with medicine.”
Dr. Benson whistled. “You mean surgical art? That’s a tough field.”
Jean grinned. “I know it is. But Dr. Barsch has encouraged me to try my hand at it. I guess starting just about any time now, he’s going to give me practice sketching operations here. As a matter of fact, I was just going through my sketchbook. I’m working on anatomical drawings from books now so I’ll be better at doing real life sketches.”
Dr. Benson put his hands on his hips. “Did you donate that painting to the clinic as your contribution?”