The Doctor. Do you remember the other night when the pain was so bad?
The Girl. Yep.
The Doctor. And I told you you would have to bear it, that I could do nothing for you, and that you must be quiet not to disturb the others?
The Girl. Oh, don’t I remember!
The Doctor. I guess that’s about enough punishment for one little girl. You’ve been pretty unhappy lately, haven’t you, with the pain and the terrible thoughts? I think it’s about time something else turned up for you that would be nicer, don’t you?
The Girl. Turned up?
The Doctor. Yes, something that would make up for all this. Do you know, child, as I’ve gone through these wards day after day ’tending to all you sick folks, I’ve about come to the conclusion that there must be—something nicer—
The Girl. Tell me more about it.
The Doctor. Well now—there’s another queer question. Didn’t I tell you I don’t know anything to tell? I’ve never been there. I should think you would have found out a little something since you’re planning to go so soon. But no, I don’t suppose you know much more than the rest of us. And when you get there you will probably forget all about me and how much I’d like to know what’s happening to my little patient. No use I suppose asking you to tie a red string on your finger and say “that’s to send Dr. Carroll a little message.” Is there any way, do you think you could remember?
The Girl. You’re kiddin’ me!