“Painful, sir!”
“To have to confess to a brother-doctor’s misman—misdirection of the case.”
His tactful disinclination reacted electrically upon Mrs. Baxter. She leaned forward in her chair, and brandished a long forefinger with exultant solemnity.
“Just what I thought, doctor.”
Parker Steel cleared his throat and proceeded.
“You understand my professional predicament, Mrs. Baxter. At the same time, I feel it to be my duty—”
“Just you tell me the plain facts, doctor; what did my husband die of?”
Steel rose from his chair, walked to the window, and stood there a moment looking out into the garden, as though struggling with the ethics and the etiquette of the case.
“Frankly, Mrs. Baxter,” and he turned to her with a grieved air, “I am compelled to admit that this operation hastened your husband’s death.”
Mrs. Baxter bumped in her chair.