Carlotta alone treated him with deference. His uneasy rounds in Carlotta's precinct took on the state and form of staff visitations. She flattered, cajoled, looked up to him.
After a time it dawned on Wilson that this junior cub was getting more attention than himself: that, wherever he happened to be, somewhere in the offing would be Carlotta and the Lamb, the latter eyeing her with worship. Her indifference had only piqued him. The enthroning of a successor galled him. Between them, the Lamb suffered mightily--was subject to frequent “bawling out,” as he termed it, in the operating-room as he assisted the anaesthetist. He took his troubles to Carlotta, who soothed him in the corridor--in plain sight of her quarry, of course--by putting a sympathetic hand on his sleeve.
Then, one day, Wilson was goaded to speech.
“For the love of Heaven, Carlotta,” he said impatiently, “stop making love to that wretched boy. He wriggles like a worm if you look at him.”
“I like him. He is thoroughly genuine. I respect him, and--he respects me.”
“Perhaps you do. I--I don't really care a lot about him, Max. But I've been down-hearted. He cheers me up.”
Her attraction for him was almost gone--not quite. He felt rather sorry for her.
“I'm sorry. Then you are not angry with me?”
“Angry? No.” She lifted her eyes to his, and for once she was not acting. “I knew it would end, of course. I have lost a--a lover. I expected that. But I wanted to keep a friend.”
It was the right note. Why, after all, should he not be her friend? He had treated her cruelly, hideously. If she still desired his friendship, there was no disloyalty to Sidney in giving it. And Carlotta was very careful. Not once again did she allow him to see what lay in her eyes. She told him of her worries. Her training was almost over. She had a chance to take up institutional work. She abhorred the thought of private duty. What would he advise?
The Lamb was hovering near, hot eyes on them both. It was no place to talk.
“Come to the office and we'll talk it over.”
“I don't like to go there; Miss Simpson is suspicious.”
The institution she spoke of was in another city. It occurred to Wilson that if she took it the affair would have reached a graceful and legitimate end.