“It seems to me that a doctor could transform
a whole community, if he wanted to—if he
saw it. He’s usually the only man in the
neighborhood who has any scientific training, isn’t
he?”
“Yes, that’s so, but I guess most of us
get rusty. We land in a rut of obstetrics and
typhoid and busted legs. What we need is women
like you to jump on us. It’d be you that
would transform the town.”
“No, I couldn’t. Too flighty.
I did used to think about doing just that, curiously
enough, but I seem to have drifted away from the idea.
Oh, I’m a fine one to be lecturing you!”
“No! You’re just the one. You
have ideas without having lost feminine charm.
Say! Don’t you think there’s a lot
of these women that go out for all these movements
and so on that sacrifice——”
After his remarks upon suffrage he abruptly questioned
her about herself. His kindliness and the firmness
of his personality enveloped her and she accepted
him as one who had a right to know what she thought
and wore and ate and read. He was positive.
He had grown from a sketched-in stranger to a friend,
whose gossip was important news. She noticed
the healthy solidity of his chest. His nose, which
had seemed irregular and large, was suddenly virile.
She was jarred out of this serious sweetness when
Marbury bounced over to them and with horrible publicity
yammered, “Say, what do you two think you’re
doing? Telling fortunes or making love? Let
me warn you that the doc is a frisky bacheldore, Carol.
Come on now, folks, shake a leg. Let’s
have some stunts or a dance or something.”
She did not have another word with Dr. Kennicott until
their parting:
“Been a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Milford.
May I see you some time when I come down again?
I’m here quite often—taking patients
to hospitals for majors, and so on.”
“Why——”
“What’s your address?”
“You can ask Mr. Marbury next time you come
down—if you really want to know!”
“Want to know? Say, you wait!”
Of the love-making of Carol and Will Kennicott there
is nothing to be told which may not be heard on every
summer evening, on every shadowy block.
They were biology and mystery; their speech was slang
phrases and flares of poetry; their silences were
contentment, or shaky crises when his arm took her
shoulder. All the beauty of youth, first discovered
when it is passing—and all the commonplaceness
of a well-to-do unmarried man encountering a pretty
girl at the time when she is slightly weary of her
employment and sees no glory ahead nor any man she
is glad to serve.
They liked each other honestly—they were
both honest. She was disappointed by his devotion
to making money, but she was sure that he did not
lie to patients, and that he did keep up with the medical
magazines. What aroused her to something more
than liking was his boyishness when they went tramping.
