boyish impulsiveness quenched noxiously like a candle flame, he met and
passed Rae Malgregor without a sign of recognition.

"God! How I hate women!" he kept mumbling to himself as he struggled
clumsily all alone into the torn sleeve lining of his thousand dollar
mink coat.




CHAPTER IV


Like a train-traveler coming out of a long, smoky, smothery tunnel
Into the clean-tasting light, the White Linen Nurse came out of the
prudish-smelling hospital into the riotous mud-and-posie promise of the
young April afternoon.

The God of Hysteria had certainly not deserted her! In all the full
effervescent reaction of her brain-storm,--fairly bubbling with
dimples, fairly foaming with curls,--light-footed, light-hearted, most
ecstatically light-headed, she tripped down into the sunshine as though
the great, harsh, granite steps that marked her descent were nothing
more nor less than a gigantic, old, horny-fingered hand passing her
blithely out to some deliciously unknown Lilliputian adventure.

As she pranced across the soggy April sidewalk to what she supposed was
the Senior Surgeon's perfectly empty automobile she became conscious
suddenly that the rear seat of the car was already occupied.