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Updated: May 9, 2025
Grotesquely a little smile went scudding zig-zag across his haggard face. With an impulse absolutely alien to him he reached out abruptly again and raised the White Linen Nurse's hand to his lips. "'Good God' was what I meant Miss Malgregor!" he grinned a bit sheepishly. Quite bruskly then he turned and looked at his watch.
Why, people had to eat no matter how wonderful they were! But evenings?" they speculated more darkly. "But evenings?" In the whole range of human experience was it even so much as remotely imaginable that evenings the Senior Surgeon and Rae Malgregor sat in the hammock and held hands? "Oh, Gee!" blanched the senior nurses. "Good-morning, Dr.
I was afraid, I was! I cried, I did! I had a convulsion! They thought it was stockings! So Peach said if it would make me feel any gooderer, I could be the cruel new step-mother. And she'd be the unloved offspring with her hair braided all yellow fluffikins down her back!" "Where is Miss Malgregor?" asked the Senior Surgeon sharply.
"I'm sorry, sir!" said the White Linen Nurse. "I'd like to have seen a roller-coaster, sir!" Just for an instant a gleam of laughter went brightening across the Senior Surgeon's brooding face, and was gone again. "Rae Malgregor, come here!" he ordered quite sharply.
"Was it you who threaded that needle for me so blamed slowly and calmly and surely, while all the rest of us were jumping up and down and cursing you for no brighter reason than that we couldn't have threaded it ourselves if we'd had all eternity before us and all creation bleeding to death?" "Y-e-s, sir," said Rae Malgregor.
"Other men are pretty sure to want you," admonished the Senior Surgeon. "Have you made up your mind definitely that you'll never marry anybody?" "N o, not exactly," confessed the White Linen Nurse. An odd flicker twitched across the Senior Surgeon's face like a sob in the brain. "What's your first name, Miss Malgregor?" he asked a bit huskily. "Rae," she told him with some surprise.
Now and again across the chasm that separated them flashed the incontrovertible signal of mutual trust and appreciation, as when once, after a particularly violent vocal outburst on the Senior Surgeon's part, he sobered down very suddenly and said: "Rae Malgregor, do you realize that in all the weeks we've been together you've never once nagged me about my swearing?
I've been expecting this break-down for some days." "And-the-young-drug-store-clerk-the-week-before-that," Rae Malgregor resumed with sing-song monotony. Brusquely the Senior Surgeon stepped forward and taking the girl by her shoulders, jerked her sharply round to the light, and, with firm, authoritative fingers, rolled one of her eyelids deftly back from its inordinately dilated pupil.
"I said where is Miss Malgregor?" repeated the Senior Surgeon with increasing sharpness. Thriftily the Little Girl bent down to lap a bubble of cream from the broken pitcher. "Oh, she's out in the summer house with the Wall Paper Man," she mumbled indifferently. Altogether jerkily the Senior Surgeon started up the walk for his own perfectly formal and respectable brown stone mansion.
Hazily for an instant Rae Malgregor stood staring into the Superintendent's uncordial face. "I'd I'd apologize," she faltered, "but I don't even know what I said. It just blew up!" Perfectly coldly and perfectly civilly the Superintendent received the overture. "It was quite evident, Miss Malgregor, that you were not altogether responsible at the moment," she conceded in common justice.
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