“Oh, yes,” said the White Linen Nurse.
“I mean, can you do exactly what you’re told?” gasped the Senior Surgeon. “Can you follow directions, I mean? Can you follow them explicitly? Or are you one of those people who listens only to her own judgment?”
“Oh, but I haven’t got any judgment,” protested the White Linen Nurse.
Palpably in the Senior Surgeon’s bloodshot eyes the leisurely seeming diagnosis leaped to precipitous conclusions.
“Then get out of here quick, for God’s sake, and get to work!” he ordered.
Cautiously the White Linen Nurse jerked herself back into freedom and crawled around and stared at the Senior Surgeon through the wheel-spokes again. Like one worrying out some intricate mathematical problem, his mental strain was pulsing visibly through his closed eyelids.
“Yes, sir?” prodded the White Linen Nurse.
“Keep still!” snapped the Senior Surgeon. “I’ve got to think,” he said. “I’ve got to work it out. All in a moment you’ve got to learn to run the car. All in a moment! It’s awful!”
“Oh, I don’t mind, sir,” affirmed the White Linen Nurse, serenely.
Frenziedly the Senior Surgeon rooted one cheek into the mud again.