IN TRAINING


One sultry July night four years later Dr. Isaac Lavinski, now an
arrogant member of the staff at the Adair Hospital, paused on his last
round of the wards and cocked an inquiring ear above the steps that led
to the basement. Something that sounded very much like suppressed
laughter came up to him, and in order to confirm his suspicions, he
tiptoed down to the landing and, making an undignified syphon of himself,
peered down into the rear passage. In a circle on the floor, four nurses
in their nightgowns softly beat time, while a fifth, arrayed in pink
pajamas, with her hair flying, gave a song and dance with an abandon that
ignored the fact that the big thermometer in the entry registered
ninety-nine.

The giggles that had so disturbed Dr. Lavinski's peace of mind increased
in volume, as the dancer executed a particularly daring _passeul_ and,
turning a double somersault, landed deftly on her bare toes.

"Go on, do it again!" "Show us how Sheeny Ike dances the tango." "Sing
Barney McKane," came in an enthusiastic chorus.

But before the encore could be responded to, a familiar sound in the
court without, sent the girls scampering to their respective rooms.

Dr. Isaac, reluctantly relinquishing his chance for administering prompt
and dramatic chastisement, came down the stairs and out to the entry.

An ambulance had just arrived, and behind it was a big private car, and