Beset with countless difficulties, hindered by carping criticism, the brave doctors at the Hygiene Building have been laboring like Trojans to stem the measly tide, but yesterday Fate at last brought them to their knees.
Appearing at the door of his office, supporting an unusually unhappy patient, Dr. Hathaway learned that there were no more beds. He blanched, tottered, but bravely returned to his duty, game to the last.
And the patient? We almost forgot. He just sat down in the corridor to wait until someone should recover and leave and bed.