At noon I rose, dashed ice water on my tired eyes, dressed and started downstairs. The dark day made the vast old place gloomier than ever and lights had had to be turned on all over the building which, however, failed to dispel the lurking shadows. Apparently the nurses were doing their duty as well as might be expected, though I noted that they gathered in groups and that there was a noticeable lack of smothered talk and laughter.
In the north wing of the second floor I caught a glimpse, as I rounded the stairs, of Dr. Hajek, clad in fresh, white duck trousers and coat and certainly not much resembling a thief and a murderer, making his morning rounds, and at the door of the maternity ward I met Dr. Balman, an attendant nurse at his elbow.
It was strange to see the everyday routine going on almost as usual, almost as if we were not held in the cold grip of horror. No, not quite as usual, for there was somehow about the place, emanating from the very, white and expectant walls, an air of suspense, of breathless waiting.
Dr. Balman had noted it, too.
“Even the patients are upset and restless to-day,” he said wearily, as I stopped to ask him about Sonny, whose cast did not satisfy me. He rubbed his hand over his high, benevolent forehead, drew it gently over the bruise that still looked red and angry, and sighed.
“It is the weather,” I suggested, though it was nothing of the kind.
“Yes. Yes, it must be the weather. A constant succession of cloudy, rainy days such as we have been having is bad for the nerves. I hope this rain sees the end of it.” His anxious eyes went past me toward the window at the end of the corridor.
“One wonders where it is all coming from,” I commented. “I think, too, that the patients feel the—er—atmosphere of the hospital. The nurses are uneasy and nervous, jump at every sound, and there is a distinct feeling of suspense and—breathlessness in the air.”
Dr. Balman nodded; his eyes looked tired and sad under his thin eyebrows.
“I understand what you mean. There is a psychic undercurrent of unrest and alarm that is bound to communicate itself to the sick.”