“Fellow used to do fire chasing for The Call. And say, Doc, he promised us a new stretcher, but he didn’t say when ... if it’s the same to you...?”
The student nurse and orderly pranced out of sight. Cub Sterling moved toward the fireman and said:
“It’s still yours! I’m scared to move her more than necessary. Send it down in the elevator as soon as she’s transferred. You wait at this door.”
Inside the door of Medicine Clinic, Miss Roenna Kerr, head nurse, accosted Dr. Sterling. The pompadour which overhung her long face was a blueing-water white.
Beside her with the quiet diffidence of a poodle, a fat interne was anchored. Miss Kerr said:
“Dr. Mattus, and Dr. Sarah James, the floor interne on B are off this afternoon, Dr. Sterling, so I brought the interne from A.... And am I correct in understanding that you ordered this patient into a dying patient room off Ward B?”
Dr. Sterling’s voice was crisp and ominous:
“Room Two. You are.”
“But Dr. Ethridge....”
Her bust began to inflate. His reply corroded her vanity: