ah.thefinaldiagnosis-第19部分

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　Dornberger's　interjection　ten　days　ago　at　the　mortality　conference　had　been　much　like　that。　He　supposed　other　people　recognized　the　alliance　between　himself　and　Joe。　What　was　it　Gil　Bartlett　had　said？　〃You're　a　friend　of　his；　and　besides　he　doesn't　have　a　vendetta　with　obstetricians。〃　Until　this　moment　he　had　forgotten　the　remark；　but　he　realized　now　it　had　had　an　edge　of　bitterness　and　he　was　sorry　about　that。　Bartlett　was　a　good　physician；　and　Dornberger　made　a　mental　note　to　be　especially　cordial　next　time　they　met。
　But　there　was　still　his　own　problem。　To　quit　or　not　to　quit？　And　if　he　did　quit；　when？　Just　lately；　despite　his　carefully　guarded　physical　fitness；　he　had　found　himself　tiring。　And　although　he　had　spent　a　lifetime　answering　night　calls；　lately　they　had　seemed　harder　to　take。　Yesterday　at　lunch　he　had　heard　Kersh；　the　dermatologist；　telling　a　new　intern；　〃You　should　join　us　in　the　skin　game；　son。　Haven't　been　called　out　at　night　in　fifteen　years。〃　Dornberger　had　laughed　with　the　rest　but　harbored　a　little　secret　envy。
　One　thing　he　was　sure　of　though。　He　would　not　hang　on　if　he　found　himself　weakening。　Right　now　he　knew　he　was　as　good　as　ever。　His　mind　was　clear；　his　hands　steady　and　eyes　sharp。　He　always　watched　himself　carefully　because　he　knew　that　at　the　first　sign　of　failing　he　would　not　hesitate。　He　would　clear　his　desk　and　go。　He　had　seen　too　many　others　try　to　stay　the　course　too　long。　That　would　never　be　for　him。
　But　as　for　the　present；　well；　maybe　he　would　let　things　go　another　three　months；　then　think　it　over。
　By　this　time　he　had　packed　the　tobacco　tightly　in　his　pipe　and　now　he　reached　for　a　folder　of　matches。　He　was　about　to　strike　one　when　the　telephone　rang。　Putting　down　pipe　and　matches；　he　answered　it。　〃Dr。　Dornberger　speaking。〃
　It　was　one　of　his　patients。　She　had　begun　labor　pains　an　hour　ago。　Now　her　membranes　had　ruptured　and　she　had　discharged　water。　She　was　a　young　girl　in　her　early　twenties；　and　it　would　be　her　first　baby。　She　sounded　breathless；　as　if　nervous　but　trying　not　to　be。
　As　he　had　so　many　times　before；　Dornberger　gave　his　instructions　quietly。　〃Is　your　husband　at　home？〃
　〃Yes；　Doctor。〃
　〃Then　get　your　things　together　and　have　him　drive　you　to　the　hospital。　I'll　see　you　after　you've　arrived。〃
　〃Very　well；　Doctor。〃
　〃Tell　your　husband　to　drive　carefully　and　stop　at　all　the　red　lights。　We've　plenty　of　time。　You'll　see。〃
　He　could　sense；　even　over　the　phone；　that　he　had　helped　her　to　relax。　It　was　something　he　did　often；　and　he　considered　it　as　much　a　part　of　his　job　as　any　course　of　treatment。　Nevertheless　he　felt　his　own　senses　quickening。　A　new　case　always　had　that　effect。　Logically；　he　thought；　he　should　have　lost　the　feeling　long　ago。　As　you　grew　older　in　medicine　you　were　supposed　to　bee　impervious；　mechanical　and　unsentimental。　It　had　never　worked　that　way　for　him；　though…perhaps　because；　even　now；　he　was　doing　what　he　loved　to　do　most。
　He　reached　for　his　pipe；　then　changed　his　mind　and　picked　up　the　telephone　again。　He　must　let　Obstetrics　know　that　his　patient　was　ing　in。
　
　Eight
　
　〃I'm　not　even　sure　that　defeating　polio　was　a　good　or　necessary　thing。〃
　The　speaker　was　Eustace　Swayne…founder　of　a　department…store　empire；　millionaire　philanthropist；　and　member　of　the　board　of　directors　of　Three　Counties　Hospital。　The　background　was　the　shadowed；　oak…paneled　library　of　Swayne's　aging　but　imposing　mansion；　set　alone　in　fifty　acres　of　parkland　and　near　the　eastern　fringes　of　Burlington。
　〃e　now；　you　can't　be　serious；〃　Orden　Brown　said　lightly。　The　hospital…board　chairman　smiled　at　the　two　women　in　the　room…his　own　wife；　Amelia；　and　Swayne's　daughter；　Denise　Quantz。
　Kent　O'Donnell　sipped　the　cognac　which　a　soft…footed　manservant　had　brought　him　and　leaned　back　in　the　deep　leather　chair　he　had　chosen　on　entering　this　room　with　the　others　after　dinner。　It　occurred　to　him　that　the　scene　they　made　was　almost　medieval。　He　glanced　around　the　softly　lighted　room；　his　eyes　ranging　over　tiers　of　leather…bound　books　rising　to　the　high…timbered　ceiling；　the　dark　and　heavy　oaken　furniture；　the　cavernous　fireplace　laid　with　great　logs…not　burning　now；　this　warm　July　evening；　but　ready　to　blaze　to　life　at　the　touch　of　a　servant's　torch；　and；　across　from　O'Donnell；　Eustace　Swayne；　seated　kinglike　in　a　straight…backed；　stuffed　wing　chair；　the　other　four…almost　as　courtiers…formed　in　a　semicircle；　facing　the　old　tycoon。
　〃I　am　serious。〃　Swayne　put　down　his　brandy　glass　and　leaned　forward　to　make　his　point。　〃Oh；　I　admit…show　me　a　child　in　leg　braces　and　I'll　cringe　with　the　rest　and　reach　for　my　checkbook。　But　I'm　talking　of　the　grand　design。　The　fact　is…and　I　challenge　anyone　to　deny　it…we're　busily　engaged　in　weakening　the　human　race。〃
　It　was　a　familiar　argument。　O'Donnell　said　courteously；　〃Would　you　suggest　that　we　should　stop　medical　research；　freeze　our　knowledge　and　techniques；　not　try　to　conquer　any　more　diseases？〃
　〃You　couldn't　do　it；〃　Swayne　said。　〃You　couldn't　do　it　any　more　than　you　could　have　stopped　the　Gadarene　swine　jumping　off　their　cliff。〃
　O'Donnell　laughed。　〃I'm　not　sure　I　like　the　analogy。　But　if　that　is　so；　then　why　the　argument？〃
　〃Why？〃　Swayne　banged　a　fist　on　the　arm　of　his　chair。　〃Because　you　can　still　deplore　something；　even　though　there's　nothing　you　can　do　to　force　a　change。〃
　〃I　see。〃　O'Donnell　was　not　sure　he　wanted　to　get　deeper　into　this　discussion。　Besides；　it　might　not　help　relations　with　Swayne；　either　for　himself　or　Orden　Brown；　which　was　really　why　they　had　e　here。　He　glanced　around　at　the　others　in　the　room。　Amelia　Brown；　whom　he　had　e　to　know　well　through　his　visits　to　the　chairman's　home；　caught　his　eye　and　smiled。　As　a　wife　who　kept　herself　posted　on　all　her　husband's　activities；　she　was　well　informed　about　hospital　politics。
　Swayne's　married　daughter；　Denise　Quantz；　was　sitting　forward；　listening　intently。
　At　dinner　O'Donnell　had　several　times　found　his　eyes　traveling；　almost　involuntarily；　in　Mrs。　Quantz's　direction。　He　had　found　it　difficult　to　reconcile　her　as　the　daughter　of　the　rugged；　hard…bitten　man　who　sat　at　the　table's　head。　At　seventy…eight　Eustace　Swayne　still　exhibited　much　of　the　toughness　he　had　learned　in　the　petitive　maelstrom　of　large…scale　retail　merchandising。　At　times　he　took　advantage　of　his　age　to　toss　out　barbed　remarks　to　his　guests；　though　O'Donnell　suspected　that　most　times　their　host　was　merely　angling　for　an　argument。　O'Donnell　had　found　himself　thinking：　The　old　boy　still　likes　a　fight；　even　if　it's　only　in　words。　In　the　same　way　he　had　an　instinct　now　that　Swayne　was　overstating　his　feelings　about　medicine；　though　perhaps　in　this　case　merely　for　the　sake　of　being　ornery。　Watching　the　old　man　covertly；　O'Donnell　had　suspected　gout　and　rheumatism　might　be　factors　here。
　But；　in　contrast；　Denise　Quantz　was　gentle　and　softly　spoken。　She　had　a　trick　of　taking　the　edge　from　a　remark　of　her　father's　by　adding　a　word　or　two　to　what　he　had　said。　She　was　beautiful　too；　O'Donnell　thought；　with　the　rare　mature　loveliness　which　sometimes　es　to　a　woman　at　forty。　He　gathered　that　she　was　visiting　Eustace　Swayne　and　came　to　Burlington　fairly　frequently。　Probably　this　was　to　keep　an　eye　on　her　father；　he　knew　that　Swayne's　own　wife　had　died　many　years　before。　It　was　evident　from　conversation；　though；　that　most　of　the　time　Denise　Quantz　lived　in　New　York。　There　were　a　couple　of　references　made　to　children；　but　a　husband　was　not　mentioned。　He　gained　the　impression　that　she　was　either　separated　or　divorced。　Mentally　O'Donnell　found　himself　paring　Denise　Quantz　with　Lucy　Grainger。　There　was　a　world　of　difference；　he　thought；　between　the　two　women：　Lucy　with　her　professional　career；　at　ease　in　the　environment　of　medicine　and　the　hospital；　able　to　meet　someone　like　himself　on　ground　familiar　to　them　both；　and　Denise　Quantz；　a　woman　of　leisure　and　independence；　a　figure　in　society　no　doubt；　and　yet…he　had　the　feeling…someone　who　would　make　a　home　a　place　of　warmth　and　serenity。　O'Donnell　wondered　which　kind　of　woman　was　better　for　a　man：　one　who　was　close　to　his　working　life；　or　someone　separate　and　detached；　with　other　interests　beyond　the　daily　round。
　His　thoughts　were　interrupted　by　Denise。　Leaning　toward　him；　she　said；　〃Surely　you're　not　going　to　give　up　so　easily；　Dr。　O'Donnell。　Please　don't　let　my　father　get　away　with　that。〃
　The　old　man　snorted。　〃There's　nothing　to　get　away　with。　It's　a　perfectly　clear　situation。　For　years　the　natural　balance　of　nature　kept　populations　in　check。　When　the　birth　rate　became　too　great　there　were　famines　to　offset　it。〃
　Orden　Brown　put　in；　〃But　surely　some　of　that　was　political。　It　wasn't　always　a　force　of　nature。〃
　〃I'll　grant　you　that　in　some　cases。〃　Eustace　Swayne　waved　his　hand　airily。　〃But　there　was　nothing　political　in　the　elimination　of　the　weak。〃
　〃Do　you　mean　the　weak　or　the　unfortunate？〃　Very　well；　O'Donnell　thought；　if　you　want　an　argument　I'll　give　you　one。
　〃I　mean　what　I　say…the　weak。〃　The　old　man's　voice　had　a　sharper　tone；　but　O'Donnell　sensed　he　was　enjoying　this。　〃When　there　was　a　plague　or　an　epidemic；　it　was　the　weak　who　were　wiped　out　and　the　strong　survived。　Other　illnesses　did　the　same　thing；　there　was　a　level　maintained…nature's　level。　And　because　of　this　it　was　the　strong　who　perpetuated　themselves。　They　were　the　ones　who　sired　the　next　generation。〃
　〃Do　you　really　think；　Eustace；　that　mankind　is　so　degenerate　now？〃　Amelia　Brown　had　asked　the　question；　and　O'Donnell　saw　she　was　smiling。　She　knows　that　Swayne's　enjoying　this；　he　thought。
　〃We're　moving　toward　degeneracy；〃　the　old　man　answered　her；　〃at　least　in　the　Western　world。　We're　preserving　the　cripples；　the　weaklings；　and　the　disease…ridden。　We're　accumulating　burdens　on　society；　non…producers…the　unfit；　unable　to　contribute　anything　to　the　mon　good。　Tell　me…what　purpose　does　a　sanatorium　or　a　home　for　incurables　serve？　I　tell　you；　medicine　today　is　preserving　people　who　should　be　allowed　to　die。　But　we're　helping　them　to　live；　then　letting　them　spawn　and　multiply；　passing　along　their　uselessness　to　their　children　and　their　children's　children。〃
　O'Donnell　reminded　him；　〃The　relationship　between　disease　and　heredity　is　far　from　clear。〃
　〃Strength　is　of　the　mi