Still fumbling to get his arm through his left sleeve, Leto met the other young man in the hall. If I shoved him off too roughly, I'd tear his arms out of the sockets, break his back. It had been her favorite time, too, for driving to the hospital, running one red light after another in the great quiet vacuum, her mind filled with orderly and detailed thoughts of the operations waiting for her. She loved this time, absolutely loved it. Then she got her coffee, and her cigarettes, and sat down on the couch and looked at her watch. The blood filled me so that I could take no more. In it was a girl of about ten with a bandage over one eye, a woman, plainly the mother, hovering protectively alongside. On the second floor O'Donnell halted to let a nurse with a wheel chair pass. The interns quietened a little when they saw the medical-board president and offered a respectfulGood morning, Doctor, as each went by. Automatically O'Donnell checked his wrist watch, then moved aside as a group of interns passed him hurriedly on the staff stairway, their feet sounding noisily on the metal treads. The sound of the bell, off-key as always from a flaw in its long-ago casting, drifted in through an open stairway window.
Two blocks from Three Counties Hospital the clock-tower bell of the Church of the Redeemer was chiming the hour as Kent O'Donnell made his way from the surgical floor down to Administration.
0 kommentar(er)
