Vigil in the Night by A. J. Cronin Read Free Book Online

a beautiful fitted handbag. Delighted, she unfastened the clasp and opened the inner compartment. Then her satisfaction faded. In the little coin purse was a ten-pound note. Somehow it cheapened the service she had rendered him, made her feel like a servant given a tip. She must, simply must, give it back to him.
      She was about to reenter the room when a step in the corridor caused her to turn round. Coming toward her was Dr. Prescott. She felt painfully conscious of the bag and the banknote in her hand.
      It may have been Prescott’s uncanny intuition, or possible foreknowledge that Bowley had meant to make her this gift. At any rate, he took in the situation in a quiet comprehensive glance. “Bowley’s generosity is always embarrassing,” he said. “I find it so when he offers me my fee.”
      Though that simple phrase put the whole thing right, she still hesitated. She stammered, “Really, Dr. Prescott, I don’t like taking this money.”
      “Nonsense! The laborer is worthy of his hire—especially when it comes to checking swabs. Even the best doctor in the world is quite helpless without capable nurses. So many people don’t appreciate that fact. If I can help you in any way, I shall be pleased to do so. There is a summer class in advanced nursing you might care to attend. I’ll send you some textbooks. I want to encourage keenness at Hepperton.”
      Anne returned to Ward C greatly heartened by this encounter. There was some quality in Prescott that braced and stimulated her. But she had difficulty in making herself accept the ten-pound note.
      After much consideration she decided to use the money to buy a silver salver as a wedding present for Lucy and Joe.
     
    CHAPTER 16
      The quality of the food in the nurses’ mess hall steadily grew worse. Nora, Anne, and Glennie, with Nurse Dow and Nurse Todd, two hardy spirits who had recently attached themselves to Anne, and a number of other girls who represented the most intelligent nurses in the home met one day to decide upon the most effective way of making a protest.
      “We’ve got to do something about it,” declared Nurse Dow. “If we don’t, there’s going to be a thundering tragedy.”
      “But what can we do about it?” demanded Nurse Todd with a hopeless gesture.
      “I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Nora with violent emphasis. “We’ll shame them into feeding us. I’ve had the idea in my head for the last few days. Now listen. We’ve got to stop eating their food. And eat our own instead. Tomorrow we’ll eat no lunch, not a scrap, and then at half-past one we’ll walk out to Gibb’s store, buy biscuits and cheese and bananas, and come back and eat them in the yard under Matron’s window. There’s no law against that to my knowledge. And if we do it every day for a week, we’re bound to make the old bruiser sit up and take notice.”
      Nora’s proposal was received with acclamation. But Anne knew that the scheme had little chance of success. She had a sudden impulse to take the matter to Dr. Prescott. But she told herself that she barely knew him, that he would perhaps resent her approach, and that in any case it was not his place to interfere. She understood well enough, however, that since the fault lay entirely with the system, the only way to effect a genuine and lasting reform was by taking the matter beyond the matron to the highest court of appeal.
      There were nine of the rebels, all told. The following day at lunchtime, when the meal was placed before them, they simply left it untouched. No one took much notice. Sister Lucas, who was supposed to pay a visit of inspection to the refectory, did not appear.
      At half-past one, the nine nurses went over to Gibb’s, the small general store situated opposite the main hospital gates, and made their purchases—biscuits, chocolate, and fruit. They returned munching openly, completing their alfresco meal in the courtyard directly beneath the matron’s