It was the first time the word had been mentioned. It rushed into the faces of the seven men like an angry wind.
During the ensuing vacuum, Dr. MacArthur lifted his telephone:
“Miss Sadler, will you please bring that pupil nurse to my office.”
The girl entered tensely.
Dr. Barton noticed her eyes were blue and too closely set; Prissy thought the face was sweet; Princeton Peters felt she had been nicely brought up; Dr. Harrison’s brain flashed “kitten lined with ox-hide”; Cub noticed her feet were flat, and Dr. MacArthur was too benevolent for a personal estimate.
“Won’t you sit down, Miss ... er....”
“My name is Evelina Kerr.”
Her voice held a note of defiance as she took the proffered chair beside Dr. MacArthur’s.
“My child,” he said soothingly, “this is probably the most trying duty you have had in your whole training ... and we regret that it is unavoidable. Will you please tell us plainly ... and as minutely as you can remember, exactly what happened after you went on duty in B Ward last night?”
She sat with her feet together, her hands folded in her lap, and a sullen calm in her voice.