"Not the slightest. I—knew her husband."
"The thing for you to do," said the doctor, "is to hustle right out to a telephone; call up the hospital. Get Doctor Nelson, if you can—"
"Nelson!"
"Yes; if not, get Baker; tell him I—" then followed concise directions; "But try and get Nelson; he's the top man. They're frightfully crowded, and if you fool with understrappers, you'll get turned down. I'd do it, but I've got to stay here and see that she doesn't get perfectly crazy."
Almost before the doctor finished his directions, Maurice was rushing downstairs.... That next half hour was a nightmare. He ran up the street, slippery with ice; saw over a drug store the blue sign of the public telephone, and dashed in—to wait interminably outside the booth! A girl in a silly hat was drawling into the transmitter. Once Maurice, pacing frantically up and down, heard her flat laugh; then, to his dismay, he saw her, through the glass of the door, instead of hanging up the receiver, drop a coin into the slot....
"Damn! Another five minutes!"
He turned and struck his fist on the counter. "Why the devil don't you have two booths here?" he demanded.
The druggist, lounging against the soda-water fountain, smiled calmly: "You can search me. Ask the company."
"Can't you stop that woman? My business is important. For God's sake pull her out!"
"She's telephoning her beau, I guess. Who's going to stop a lady telephoning her beau? Not me."