"You serve long enough hours, I fancy," Sanderson said, with appreciation. "And the draft upon your sympathies! Or am I exceptionally favored, Miss Melnotte? Do you treat all your patients so sweetly and generously as you do me?"
A warmer color flooded into her cheeks; but she still smiled.
"That is a part of our trade, Mr. Sanderson. Cheerfulness is more potent than drugs."
"Does Doctor Herschall say that?"
She had turned away so that he could not see her countenance. But he knew she resented the remark, for she changed the topic of conversation instantly.
"Tell me what it feels like to be up in the air, Mr. Sanderson."
"Just like that," he chuckled. "You know you're up in the air, and if you think of how far below the earth is, you won't think of much else, I assure you."
"Oh, it seems very dangerous."
"Not in every way. The driver of a racing auto is in much greater danger. Little chance of collision up yonder, unless two pilots allow their planes to draw so near to each other that the suction of the propellers causes a catastrophe."
"Just as the suction of a passing train may draw one under the wheels?"