"Thanks very much, Miss Gregg," he said. "Everything went off nicely."
"I was sorry about that catgut. We have no trouble with what we prepare
ourselves. But with so many operations--"
He was in a magnanimous mood. He smiled' at Miss Gregg, who was elderly
and gray, but visibly his creature.
"That's all right. It's the first time, and of course it will be the
last."
"The sponge list, doctor."
He glanced over it, noting accurately sponges prepared, used, turned in.
But he missed no gesture of the girl who stood beside Miss Gregg.
"All right." He returned the list. "That was a mighty pretty probationer I
brought you yesterday."
Two small frowning lines appeared between Miss Harrison's dark brows. He
caught them, caught her somber eyes too, and was amused and rather
stimulated.
"She is very young."
"Prefer 'em young," said Dr. Max. "Willing to learn at that age. You'll
have to watch her, though. You'll have all the internes buzzing around,
neglecting business."
Miss Gregg rather fluttered. She was divided between her disapproval of
internes at all times and of young probationers generally, and her
allegiance to the brilliant surgeon whose word was rapidly becoming law in
the hospital. When an emergency of the cleaning up called her away, doubt
still in her eyes, Wilson was left alone with Miss Harrison.
"Tired?" He adopted the gentle, almost tender tone that made most women
his slaves.
"A little. It is warm."
"What are you going to do this evening? Any lectures?"
"Lectures are over for the summer. I shall go to prayers, and after that
to the roof for air."
There was a note of bitterness in her voice. Under the eyes of the other
nurses, she was carefully contained. They might have been outlining the
morning's work at his office.
"The hand lotion, please."
She brought it obediently and poured it into his cupped hands. The
solutions of the operating-room played havoc with the skin: the surgeons,
and especially Wilson, soaked their hands plentifully with a healing
lotion.
Over the bottle their eyes met again, and this time the girl smiled
faintly.
"Can't you take a little ride to-night and cool off? I'll have the car
wherever you say. A ride and some supper--how does it sound? You could
get away at seven--"
"Miss Gregg is coming!"
With an impassive face, the girl took the bottle away. The workers of the
operating-room surged between them. An interne presented an order-book;
moppers had come in and waited to clean the tiled floor. There seemed no
chance for Wilson to speak to Miss Harrison again.