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Updated: June 21, 2025
God's fool he was, indeed, for he liked to look in the interne's eyes, and did not know an interne cannot marry for years and years, and that a probationer must not upset discipline by being engaged.
Then she pulled her soft hair down over her forehead, where it was most becoming, and fastened it with tiny hairpins, and went up after all not because she intended to, but because as she came out of her room the elevator was going up not down. She was on the roof almost before she knew it. The interne was there in fresh white ducks, smoking.
"It's a small thing, as I've told you a bit of skin and it's over. Go in smiling and come out smiling! Are you ready, sir?" This to the interne. That was a great day in the ward. The inmates watched Father Feeny and the interne go behind the screens, both smiling, and they watched the father come out very soon after, still smiling but a little bleached.
So Jane cut some bread and put on eggs to boil, and the red-haired person told his story. "You see," he explained, "although I appear to be a furnace man from the waist up and an interne from the waist down, I am really the new superintendent." "I hope you'll do better than the last one," she said severely. "He was always flirting with the nurses."
Did you not know that he who has lain here for three weeks was the king?" replied Butzow. The interne accompanied them to the gate and beyond, but everywhere was silence. The king was gone. All that night and the following day Barney Custer and his aide rode in search of the missing king.
She would have resented it under other circumstances, but the Senior Surgical Interne was, even if temporarily, a patient, and must be humoured. She forgot about the kiss immediately, anyhow, although he did not. Her three months of probation were drawing to a close now, and her cap was already made and put away in a box, ready for the day she should don it. But she did not look at it very often.
It felt misunderstood, aggrieved, and horribly afraid it was going to get in the newspapers. But it was not angry. On the contrary, it was trying its extremely intelligent best to see things from a new angle. The Senior Surgical Interne was waiting outside. He had smoked eighteen cigarettes since he received his copy of the Sentinel, and was as unhappy as an interne can be.
Lindley Grant when his surprise was sprung on her. The interne summoned the Nurse into the hall with a jerk of his head. "About all in!" he said. "Heart's gone too much booze probably. I'd stay, but there's nothing to do." "Would oxygen " "Oh, you can try it if you like. It's like blowing up a leaking tire; but if you'll feel better, do it."
He doubted it. The interne didn't look the type probably he was dated for some obscure job, like a general practitioner. He shrugged. It took all kinds to make a profession. Even the Smalleys had their place. "That girl you brought in," Smalley said as they entered a white car emblazoned with the three crosses, red, blue, and green, that represented the three fields of medicine.
Your mother sent them." She nearly lost her professional manner again then. But she only asked him to warn the boys about automobiles and riding on the backs of wagons. Had any one said Twenty-two to her, she would not have known what was meant. Not just then, anyhow. In the doctors' room that night the Senior Surgical Interne lighted a cigarette and telephoned to the operating room.
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