“Who’s Otto?”
He walked to the door before he spoke and then he said:
“A bartender who gave me my first belt, first suspenders, first razor ... and my first drink! May be late tonight before I get over there. After eleven, probably. My house staff meets in ten minutes. Then supper and after that ... rounds. Be a good child, Salscie....”
Her eyes and mouth broke into a natural smile, which followed him out of the door.
When his footsteps echoed out of hearing, Sally Ferguson remembered that she hadn’t asked him any of the things she had intended to find out.
When Dr. Ethridge Sterling, Junior, again appeared in the main corridor he had changed to white hospital coat. The sun had left the trees in the back garden of the great hospital and the nurses were switching past in lines of five or six on their way to supper in the new Nurses’ Home.
Had he put it to his staff in the proper way? It was troublesome having women in a meeting. No matter how hideous they were. They always listened to what you said and divined what you didn’t say, and whatever else came of this thing he had to stick by his staff. If for one half second they suspected....
And in a time like this why in the hell.... If love was as easy to diagnose as disease ... if he could be perfectly sure! He had been married to medicine for thirty-eight years and they had got along pretty well.... Why not leave well enough alone! He glanced up at the corridor clock and swung ’round and returned to Medicine Clinic again. This was no time to walk along reflecting upon what a smile could mean. Better tell Miss Kerr how things stood. If your head nurse got down on you....
He lit a cigarette and considered. The proper thing was to go to his own office and send for Miss Kerr. But if he handled her with a touch of gallantry, she was always easier.
As the corridor light threw his shadow across the doorsill, Miss Kerr laid down her pen and carefully smiled. Before she did either of these things one was always aware that she knew whom her eyes would appraise.