When they were all inside the waiting room, Dr. Dowson said: "Now, Mr. Malone, just what is all this about?" He rubbed his long hands together. "I fail to see the humor of the situation."
"Humor?" Malone said.
"Doctor," Barbara Wilson began, "let me explain. You see—"
"These ridiculous costumes," Dr. Dowson said, waving a hand at them. "You may feel that poking fun at insanity is humorous, Mr. Malone, but let me tell you—"
"It wasn't like that at all," Boyd said.
"And," Dr. Dowson continued in a somewhat louder voice, "wanting to take Mr. Logan away from us. Mr. Logan is a very sick man, Mr. Malone. He should be properly cared for."
"I promise we'll take good care of him." Malone said earnestly. The Elizabethan clothes were fine outdoors, but in a heated room one had a tendency to sweat.
"I take leave to doubt that," Dr. Dowson said, eying their costumes pointedly.
"Miss Wilson here," Malone volunteered, "is a trained psychiatric nurse."
Barbara, in her gown, stepped forward. "Dr. Dowson," she said, "let me assure you that these costumes have their purpose. We—"