Into the breast pocket of his coat he dived and brought up a wallet. The wallet had had a name on it in gilt letters that had been carefully scraped off. But Joe did not wait to see the note.
“Oh, damn the hospital!” he said—and went swiftly down the steps and into the gathering twilight of the June night.
It was only when he reached the street-car, and sat huddled in a corner, that he remembered something.
Only about the hospital—but Le Moyne had kept the note, treasured it! Joe was not subtle, not even clever; but he was a lover, and he knew the ways of love. The Pages' roomer was in love with Sidney whether he knew it or not.
CHAPTER VII
Carlotta Harrison pleaded a headache, and was excused from the operating-room and from prayers.
“I'm sorry about the vacation,” Miss Gregg said kindly, “but in a day or two I can let you off. Go out now and get a little air.”
The girl managed to dissemble the triumph in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said languidly, and turned away. Then: “About the vacation, I am not in a hurry. If Miss Simpson needs a few days to straighten things out, I can stay on with Dr. Wilson.”
Young women on the eve of a vacation were not usually so reasonable. Miss Gregg was grateful.
“She will probably need a week. Thank you. I wish more of the girls were as thoughtful, with the house full and operations all day and every day.”
Outside the door of the anaesthetizing-room Miss Harrison's languor vanished. She sped along corridors and up the stairs, not waiting for the deliberate elevator. Inside of her room, she closed and bolted the door, and, standing before her mirror, gazed long at her dark eyes and bright hair. Then she proceeded briskly with her dressing.
Carlotta Harrison was not a child. Though she was only three years older than Sidney, her experience of life was as of three to Sidney's one. The product of a curious marriage,—when Tommy Harrison of
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