"Wonderful stuff, this new anesthetic," he told her placidly1. "It works fast, wears off just as fast, doesn't leave the patient retching. Now, you can sit up slowly. If you don't try anything strenuous2 for the next day or two, you'll never know that you've had an operation."
"I'm sorry. I operated without your consent. But I had a good reason. It wasn't even a benign4 tumor5 that you had. It was only a cyst. If I had merely diagnosed, and told you the truth, you would have kept clinging to the hope that it might be a malign6 tumor. You wouldn't have let me take it out. It would have grown big enough to disfigure you, not big enough to cause you any physical damage. You would have gone through the years with a new trouble, that of deformity, and you might have been mentally warped7 in the delusion8 that you had a fatal disease. You're as sound as a rock."
Something inside the girl seemed to turn into liquid. She sat with slumped9 shoulders, arms dangling10 limply at her side, and head sunk so far that her chin rested against her chest.
After a moment, she rose and walked slowly into the dressing11 cubicle12. When she emerged, she ignored the doctor, unlocked the door with her own hands, and walked into the reception room, sobbing13 softly.
Dr. Needzak cleaned up rapidly, and hustled14 into his main office to see his next patient. No one was there. He grumbled15 to himself and opened the door into the reception room. Blinking, he saw that it was empty. It had been filling rapidly, not a half-hour earlier.
The doctor had heard no noises indicating a commotion17 on the street outside; and that was the only reason he could think of for the sudden disappearance18 of his patients. To make sure, he strode through the reception room, walked briskly down the short hall, and stuck his head through the door leading into the street. Everything appeared normal in the bustling19 business district, until a large, black sedan ground to a stop at the curb20 in a no-parking zone. The receptionist climbed from the vehicle, two men behind her.
"Miss Waters!" Dr. Needzak exploded, when she reached the building's entrance. "What do you mean by leaving without my permission? All my patients have left. They must have thought that office hours were over."
The receptionist gave him one baleful look, and shoved past him into the building. And Dr. Needzak suddenly recognized the two men.
"Bill Carson! And Pop Manville! What brings you big doctors down here to see a small-time pill-dealer like me?"
"Let's go into your office," Pop said, softly. He was old, tall and gaunt with a perpetual look of worry. Dr. Carson, younger and bustling, evaded21 Dr. Needzak's eyes.
Miss Waters was shoveling personal belongings22 from her desk into a giant handbag, when they reached the reception room. Dr. Needzak felt her eyes upon him, as the other two physicians kept him moving by the sheer impetus23 of their bodies into his consultation24 room.
"Where is it, Walt?" Dr. Manville asked, looking gloomily around the consultation room.
"Where's what, Pop? The drinks? I keep them—"
"The door to your operating room," Dr. Carson interrupted, hurriedly. "Let's not drag this thing out. It's going to be painful enough, among old friends. Your private office has been wired for sight and sound for the past three weeks. You shouldn't have tried to get away with that kind of practice in a big city."
Dr. Needzak felt the blood draining from his face. He reached for a drawer. Dr. Manville grabbed his arm with a tight, claw-like grasp, before it could touch the handle.
"It's all right, Pop," he said. "Nothing but gin in there. I'm not the violent type."
Dr. Carson pulled open the drawer toward which he had reached. He pulled out the tall bottle, slipped off the patent top, and sniffled. Handing it to Dr. Needzak, he said:
"Okay. You need some. Then save the rest for us. We'll feel like it, too, when we're done."
Dr. Needzak coughed after three large swallows. He looked at the other two doctors. "Who ratted?"
Dr. Carson nodded toward the reception room. Dr. Needzak instinctively25 clenched26 his fists. He half-rose from his chair, then sank back slowly. "I thought you guys were my friends," he said.
"We are, Walt," Dr. Manville said thoughtfully. "But this is business. When someone charges violation27 of medical ethics28, we're the investigation29 committee. It looks like a simple investigation this time, with those tapes on file."
"What does she have against you, anyway?" Dr. Carson asked. "Usually a receptionist will go through hell to cover up little flubs for her boss. Were you mixed up with her in a personal way?"
"Mixed up with her?" Dr. Needzak laughed mirthlessly. "She's worked for me fifteen years. I've never made a pass at her."
Dr. Manville nodded sadly. "That was your mistake, Walt. Frustration30. Disappointment. Worse than jealousy31. Now, why not tell us everything?"
"There's nothing to tell. Those tapes give a false impression, sometimes. I just take difficult cases back there where I'm sure there won't be any disturbance32."
"No use," Dr. Carson interrupted. "Things will be harder for you, if we lose patience with you. We know you've been curing illness against the patient's wishes, time after time. We just saw you take out a tumor. The poor kid will probably drag through another hundred years before she develops anything else serious. You prescribed anticoagulants to a man with an obvious blood clot33. You even talked a couple with weak lungs into moving to Denver."
"All right, it was a tumor," Dr. Needzak admitted. "It was malign and it would have killed her in two or three years. But she's too young to make a decision for herself. Five years from now, she may have a different outlook on her personal problems. I have ethics, and I can't help it if they don't correspond in some details with the association's ethics."
"You were given your medical license34 under an oath to respect the ethics of the profession," Dr. Manville said slowly, emphatically. "The license did not give you the right to practice under ethics of your own invention."
"Ethics!" Dr. Needzak looked as if he wanted to spit. "Ethics is just a word. There was a time when physicians spent their time curing diseases and preventing them. They called that ethics. Now that there aren't enough illnesses left to give us work, now that people live long past the time when they want to go on living, now that we make our money helping35 people commit suicide the legal way, we call that ethics."
"You can't annihilate36 a concept simply by thinking it's only a word," Dr. Manville said. "There was a time when physicians used leeches37 for almost every patient. They fitted that nasty habit into their ethics. You wouldn't want to introduce leeches into this century, would you? But you should, if you're so consistently opposed to anything that sounds like changes in ethics."
"But I've done my part to get rid of human miseries," Dr. Needzak said, nodding toward a filing cabinet. "I can show you the data on hundreds of my patients. Old folks, who just got tired of living; I helped them die legally. Even younger people, who had a genuine reason for being tired of life. I couldn't have my fine home or pay rent in this building, if I went around curing every patient. There's no money in that."
"You wouldn't keep a filing cabinet for the times you disobeyed the medical code," Dr. Carson broke in. "But we have some of those cases on tape. You didn't refuse to handle the cases. You went ahead and played God, going directly against the direct will of your patients. Did you follow up all of the patients who aren't in your file cabinets? We traced the later records of some of them. Several suicided right out in the open. Their families haven't gotten back on their feet from the disgrace yet."
Dr. Needzak took two more deep swallows from the bottle. He looked glumly38 at the low level of the liquid through its dark side, saying:
"You fellows are enjoying this conversation more than old friends should enjoy the job of taking action against a fellow-doctor. And I'll tell you why you aren't too unhappy about it. You're jealous of me. You're jealous of the fact that I've been following a physician's natural instincts and healing people. You're angry with me for doing the things that you'd really love to do yourselves, if you had the guts39. You aren't worried about that girl; you're peeved40 because you'd give your shirts for a chance to take out a genuine tumor yourself."
"Admitted," Dr. Carson said cheerfully. "I haven't seen a live tumor in three or four years. They're scarce. But we can't sit here chatting. We don't want to end up arguing."
Dr. Needzak rose. "What do I do, then?"
"The best action would be to come along with us to the association headquarters," Dr. Manville advised, avoiding Dr. Needzak's eyes. "In a half-hour or so, you can sign enough statements to avoid weeks of hearings. Otherwise, we'll be forced to bother lots of other physicians, hunt up your old patients, endure newspaper publicity41, and have a general mess."
"After that, I start pounding the pavements, hunting a job." Dr. Needzak flexed42 his long, lean fingers. "Is it hard to learn how to operate ditch diggers?"
Dr. Carson stood up and slapped him on the back. "It isn't that bad. You can find a place in any pharmacy43 in the country, if we get through this disbarment without publicity. You'll never be rich, handing out irritants and hyper-stimulants, but—"
Dr. Needzak was already striding toward the street. The other two doctors trailed after him, waiting while he locked up carefully. They glanced at one another significantly, noting that he had unconsciously brought along his little black bag. Dr. Needzak explained as they began the two-block walk to association headquarters:
"The kids are married and away from home. I suppose that I can get enough income from sub-leasing the office to keep the wife and me eating until I find—"
A grating crash broke into his sentence. The three doctors whirled simultaneously44. Thin wails45 drifted through the constant rumble16 of traffic, from somewhere around a corner. People erupted from buildings, running toward the source of the noise. The doctors instinctively trotted46 after them.
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1
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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tumor
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| n.（肿）瘤，肿块(英)tumour | |
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malign
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| adj.有害的；恶性的；恶意的；v.诽谤，诬蔑 | |
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7
warped
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| adj.反常的；乖戾的；（变）弯曲的；变形的v.弄弯，变歪( warp的过去式和过去分词 )；使（行为等）不合情理，使乖戾， | |
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delusion
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| n.谬见，欺骗，幻觉，迷惑 | |
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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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10
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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11
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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cubicle
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| n.大房间中隔出的小室 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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violation
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| n.违反(行为)，违背(行为)，侵犯 | |
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ethics
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| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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32
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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33
clot
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| n.凝块；v.使凝成块 | |
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34
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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annihilate
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| v.使无效；毁灭；取消 | |
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37
leeches
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| n.水蛭( leech的名词复数 )；蚂蟥；榨取他人脂膏者；医生 | |
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38
glumly
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| adv.忧郁地，闷闷不乐地；阴郁地 | |
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39
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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40
peeved
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| adj.恼怒的，不高兴的v.（使）气恼，（使）焦躁，（使）愤怒( peeve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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41
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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42
flexed
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| adj.[医]曲折的，屈曲v.屈曲( flex的过去式和过去分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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43
pharmacy
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| n.药房，药剂学，制药业，配药业，一批备用药品 | |
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44
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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45
wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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46
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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