Well, that is about all.
The staff doctors met that morning, and the board of directors, and were most generous in their assistance. It was not long before we were fully equipped with resident doctors and reorganized.
Our new head doctor has a wife of Anglo-Saxon ancestry who has filled the cottage with chintz-covered furniture and muslin curtains and likes to head committees. She has a nosy disposition and we don’t get along well. We have two new internes, too; fresh-cheeked boys whom Miss Dotty pets something scandalous.
Dr. Balman developed an infection in the bruise on his cheek and lived only a short while. Corole and Hajek disappeared and have not been heard of since, though lately a report came to me that a woman much resembling Corole and dressed very beautifully had been seen at a European pleasure resort where she made large sums of money gambling. I judged that Corole was falling into soft spots as usual, unhampered by a conscience.
Maida and Jim left for Russia very soon after the events that I have herein recorded took place. I hear from them every so often, long letters full of news and snapshots.
I see Lance O’Leary once in a while, too, and indeed, have given him some slight help on a case or two.
But for the most part I am still at St. Ann’s, going about my business as usual, save that I miss a pair of steel-blue eyes.
And I avoid the closed, mysterious door of Room 18.
The End