With a small grunt of satisfaction, he finally produced a pen light. None too gently, he seized Rosemary’s round chin with knobby fingers and directed the beam of light into her eyes.
Lamont and Rosemary entered the medical bay, where they found Doctor Faust engrossed in conversation with Captain Carter. They were visible through the glass wall of Faust’s side office, the doctor sitting behind the desk with his gnarled fingers steepled in thought, the captain half-seated on the edge of the desk, his cane draped over one knee. Both looked up as the pair walked through the door from the hall, and both stood. By the time Rosemary reached the door of the office, Francis was there to meet her.
“Morning, captain,” Rosemary greeted him. “What brings you here?”
“I came to see you, actually,” Carter admitted, stepping aside as the old doctor made his way toward them. “You were so exhausted last night that I wanted to see if you were all right.”
Rosemary smiled. “Well enough. I slept like the dead, though, and had the strangest dreams.”
Lamont looked at her with a quizzical expression, but resisted the urge to interrupt. Doctor Faust had placed a hand on Rosemary’s back and was guiding her toward one of the examination beds.
“Sit down, liebling, sit down,” Faust clucked.
Visibly bemused, the young medic perched on the edge of a bed, placing her black satchel on the cushion beside her. “I’m here to work, Milo. I’m not a patient.”
“Everyone’s a patient until I say otherwise,” the doctor said. He was fishing through the many pockets of his coat, which on his hunched figure looked oversized. With a small grunt of satisfaction, he finally produced a pen light. None too gently, he seized Rosemary’s round chin with knobby fingers and directed the beam of light into her eyes.
“Oy, easy, doc!” Rosemary complained.
“Milo, is that necessary?” The captain asked, watching uncomfortably.
The doctor frowned, lowering his light and pressing two fingers hard beneath the medic’s lower jaw, probing up toward her ear. She sighed in relief when he released her and stepped back, putting a hand to his mouth in thought.
“What’s the verdict, Milo?” Rosemary asked, rubbing her cheek. “Will I live?”
“I should think so,” Faust said, “As long as you stay here and rest as much as possible.” He turned to Francis. “If I didn’t know better, I would say that Miss Wells has been sleep-deprived and malnourished for, say, a week?”