âYou clever girl,â said Maggy, dropping a kiss on the little girlâs straight hair. She looked at Paul.
âIsnât she beautiful, Doctor?â
âThe most beautiful girl in the world.â But he wasnât looking at his small patient. He bent forward, and Maggy felt his lips on hers. She stood quite still, looking at him, her cheeks very pink, but her brown eyes met his gray ones squarely.
âI donât intend to apologize, Maggy,â he said, almost lazily.
Maggy forced her voice to normalcy. âThere is no need, Doctor. I donât doubt youâve kissed many a girl before me, and will kiss many more. Iâm sure it means nothing to you.â
âJust a minute, Maggy. Are you sure of that?â
She looked over her shoulder at him. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at her with a faint mocking smile on his face.
âAye,â she said slowly, âIâm sure.â
THE SWING DOORS were almost noiseless, but old George had been head porter at St Ethelburgaâs for so many years now that his ears were familiar with the faintest whisper of sound and identified it at once. He now put down his paper and peered through his cubbyhole window at the man who had just come in. A big manâa very big man; well over six and a half foot tall and broad with it; who strolled in leisurely fashion towards him. He was a handsome man too, with grey eyes, a straight nose and a wide firm mouth and dark hair, liberally sprinkled with grey. George was sure that he knew who he was; he beamed at him and said,
âGood morning, sir. Dr Van Beijen Doelsma, isnât it?â The big man, so addressed, winced slightly at the mutilation of his name by Georgeâs Cockney tongue, but smiled and nodded and said, âGood morning,â in a pleasant voice. âI believe I am early?â
George turned to his switchboard. âIf youâll wait a moment, sir, Iâll ring Sir Charles, he told me to let him know when you arrived.â
Dr Doelsma nodded again, put vast hands into the pockets of his elegant suit, and leaned a shoulder against the wall. He appeared very relaxedâslumbrous, in fact, with eyes half closed. They flew open however as his attention was caught by a figure tearing across the hospital forecourt. It was a woman, and she ran well, and he wondered why a Ward Sister in all the dignity of navy blue and white uniform needed to race around in such an unheard-of fashion. In his experience, hospital Sisters moved calmly and with a self-confident authority, designed to gain respect both from the nurses under them and the doctors they themselves worked for. The swing doors burst open with a crash, and George, waiting for his connection, looked over his shoulder, tut-tutted loudly and put his old head through his little window.
âOne day youâll get caught, Sister MacFergus, running like that; you ought to know better!â
The girl came to a halt in front of the cubbyhole, and Dr Doelsma, as yet unnoticed, looked her up and down in a leisurely fashion. She was a tall young woman, well built and nicely rounded; she reminded him of the women of his own native Friesland, save for her hair, which was a bright chestnut and inclined to curl, but tidily confined in a French pleat at the back. She put up a large shapely hand and gave her starched cap an impatient tweak, and he observed that despite her haste she was not in the least breathless. She bent her noble proportions to Georgeâs level.
âAm I late? Has he come, George? Nine oâclock for a lecture! The man ought to be shot!â She had a soft voice, with a lilt of the Highlands in it. âThereâs Staff Nurse off sick, and four test meals, and do send a porter over, thereâs someone for X-ray.â She frowned heavily above magnificent dark eyes, and her splendid bosom heaved with exasperation.
âWhy are you looking at me so strangely, George? I know Iâm late; Iâll just have to creep in unobserved.â She paused and looked down at herself. âWell, not unobserved, perhapsâbut heâll not notice. Heâll be elderly and shortsighted and fat and bald, and Iâll not understand a word the poor wee man says.â She caught the faint sound wrung from Dr Doelsmaâs lips, and glanced over her shoulder. She smiled at him kindly and said, âGood morning. I didnât see you. Am I keeping you waiting?â She turned back to look at Georgeâs disconcerted face and added severely, âDonât gobble, George,â and with a starched rustle swept away round the corner of the long corridor, and out of sight.