Apparently she refused to accept the seriousness of the situation. Her smile was fatuous, he thought, kissably fatuous.
"Don't you realize what this means?" he demanded. "Peterson and Feldman turned up a very distressing fact. Sulfa-tetradine deposits out in the endocrines, so a single dose is all a person can take. This relapse of mine means we have it all to do over again."
"Think, Dr. Murt! Just think a minute," she urged.
"About what?"
"If the sulfa deposits out in the very glands it's there to protect, how could you be suffering another attack?"
His arms ached to reach out and emphasize his argument. "I don't know. All I know is how I feel. In a way, this is even worse, because—"
"I know," Phyllis said and perversely moved close to him. "My relapse came last Tuesday when I bought you a tie for Christmas. I sent a blood sample over to Ebert Labs right away. And do you know what?"
"What?" Murt asked in a bewildered fog.
"It was negative. I don't have Murt's Virus." She slipped an arm around his waist and put her head on his shoulder. "All I've got is Murt himself."