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effect long before now. You can’t put it down to that, I’m afraid.” He felt like someone in a chess game, trapped without warning. The doctor pressed his hand again. “I’m not criticizing you, Mr. Green. Merely asking.”
    “Because… because I can’t remember anything. I presume someone knew what they were doing when they sent me here.”
    “Are you saying you concede it is possible our methods do have their reasons?”
    “It’s your manner I can’t stand.”
    The doctor did not answer for a moment; then she quietly removed his hand from her breast, shifted away a little, and turned around on her other side to face him. Her eyes were so close that he had difficulty in focusing on them properly, but something in them, and her face, suggested that she realized he was not to be further bullied. For once it was she who lowered her eyes. She spoke in a near-whisper, almost as if she did not want Nurse Cory, just behind him, to hear.
    “Mr. Green, our work here is not easy. We are not totally devoid of ordinary human feelings. There are patients who… well, that frankly we can relate to more easily than others. I shouldn’t be saying this, but when I examined you on admission, I did not, as I confess I sometimes do at that stage, secretly wish that I had followed my original ambition of specializing in pediatrics. As a matter of fact I have been looking forward to working on your case, partly because I anticipated from certain features special to it that you would be eager yourself to work on it in conjunction with me. Inasmuch as a patient can, that is. I sincerely beg your pardon if I counted too much on that prognosis. On the other hand I hope you will believe that no one can work in this ward who does not put patients’ health well above personal feeling. Who has not learned to sacrifice extramural notions of modesty and privacy on the greater altar of human need.” Her eyes rose gravely to meet his. “I trust you can accept at least this?”
    “If I must.”
    “Mr. Green, in a moment or two I shall close my eyes. I would like you to kiss me, then to turn around and kiss Nurse. Purely as a symbol of our common humanity in a situation that is difficult for all three of us. Then perhaps we can all make a fresh start and help you achieve the erection, and eroticism, I know you are capable of.”
    Before he could answer she had tilted her mouth a little; no longer the doctor, the schoolmistress, or even a grown woman – but most of all like a demure and obedient niece waiting for a kiss from an uncle. He felt a pressure from his back, discreetly urging him to do what was asked. He looked at the face so close to his own, the dark eyelashes resting on the pale skin, the classical nose, the finely proportioned mouth. In other circumstances one might have called it a beautiful face, rather divinely balanced between intelligence and a latent sensuality. He wavered, still resisted, felt unfairly trapped. But he had to do something. He craned forward, touched his pressed lips briefly against hers, and drew back immediately.
    “Thank you, Mr. Green.” Her eyes opened, the medical persona reappeared. “Now I’m sure you’re not a racist, but you were less than kind to Nurse Cory just now. In case the fact is lost along with the rest of your memory, perhaps I may remind you of the very considerable West Indian contribution to the efficiency of our hospital services. I’m sure Nurse would appreciate it if you would turn and extend the same token of understanding to her.”
    She eased her body back a little, and he felt the body behind do the same. Dr. Delfie’s severely professional eyes held his, and perhaps it was above all to escape them that he finally turned. He kept his arm rigidly along the side of his body, as if he were standing at attention. Nurse Cory’s hand came up to his shoulder. Her eyes were also closed, the fuller mouth tilted up in the same waiting, submissive, childlike manner. However, her