Sidney went into the operating-room late in the spring as the result of a
conversation between the younger Wilson and the Head.
"When are you going to put my protegee into the operating-room?" asked
Wilson, meeting Miss Gregg in a corridor one bright, spring afternoon.
"That usually comes in the second year, Dr. Wilson."
He smiled down at her. "That isn't a rule, is it?"
"Not exactly. Miss Page is very young, and of course there are other girls
who have not yet had the experience. But, if you make the request--"
"I am going to have some good cases soon. I'll not make a request, of
course; but, if you see fit, it would be good training for Miss Page."
Miss Gregg went on, knowing perfectly that at his next operation Dr. Wilson
would expect Sidney Page in the operating-room. The other doctors were not
so exigent. She would have liked to have all the staff old and settled,
like Dr. O'Hara or the older Wilson. These young men came in and tore
things up.
She sighed as she went on. There were so many things to go wrong. The
butter had been bad--she must speak to the matron. The sterilizer in the
operating-room was out of order--that meant a quarrel with the chief
engineer. Requisitions were too heavy--that meant going around to the
wards and suggesting to the head nurses that lead pencils and bandages and
adhesive plaster and safety-pins cost money.
It was particularly inconvenient to move Sidney just then. Carlotta
Harrison was off duty, ill. She had been ailing for a month, and now she
was down with a temperature. As the Head went toward Sidney's ward, her
busy mind was playing her nurses in their wards like pieces on a
checkerboard.
Sidney went into the operating-room that afternoon. For her blue uniform,
kerchief, and cap she exchanged the hideous operating-room garb: long,
straight white gown with short sleeves and mob-cap, gray-white from many
sterilizations. But the ugly costume seemed to emphasize her beauty, as
the habit of a nun often brings out the placid saintliness of her face.
The relationship between Sidney and Max had reached that point that occurs
in all relationships between men and women: when things must either go
forward or go back, but cannot remain as they are. The condition had
existed for the last three months. It exasperated the man.
As a matter of fact, Wilson could not go ahead. The situation with
Carlotta had become tense, irritating. He felt that she stood ready to
block any move he made. He would not go back, and he dared not go forward.