“I’ll see you later, Miss Kerr.”
The student nurse, the orderly, the stretcher swished aboard the elevator, Dr. Sterling and the interne followed. Dr. Sterling, the professor, made the interne forget the friction. He snapped:
“Give you instructions after examination, Doctor. One of the most interesting things in Internal Medicine. Possible fractures, concussion, heart involvement ... anything....”
As the stretcher passed through the ward on into the room, the interne trembled behind. Dr. Sterling’s last sentence had been, “Done many decompressions?” Gosh! Those older fellows hadn’t performed many ... yet.... Lucky! Had wanted to go to the Thursday matinee himself, but Dr. Mattus and Dr. James off.... Damn those blood sugars on Ward A. What was a sugar content compared to a decompression?
In the dying patient room off Ward B, a hospital bed stood halfway between the outside window and the door which opened onto the short corridor. In the far corner of the oblong room was a stationary washbowl with chromium fixtures. Over this basin was a glass shelf. Upon the shelf was a stack of paper towels. Two Windsor chairs, one straight, one a rocker, and a bedside table completed the equipment. The floor was covered with battleship linoleum and highly polished.
In the Ward B wall was a glass inset through which the dying patient bed was visible to a standing nurse. On the room side of the inset was a window shade, always lowered during examination.
Cub Sterling went over to the stationary basin and turned back the cuffs of his white hospital coat. Then he took a cake of soap and lathered his hands thoroughly. The interne followed him and Cub instructed:
“Lather. Rinse. Lather. Dry. Best sterilization in the world. After the examination wash it off.”
He was silhouetted against the outside window. His carriage and angularity portrayed his nerves. His spreading fingers were tapering and full of conscious strength; the joints were oiled with mental precision. Occasionally his teeth measured the outer rim of his controlled lips. His mind twitched with his mouth muscles. Poor old Barton! He had never understood his mild manners before. They were a cover up....
The floor nurse interrupted: