I'll----" She ran past them without finishing her sentence and burst incoherently into the presence of an extremely calm little man with gray whiskers and dust on the shoulders of his coat.

These details, I may add, formed the sum of Lorraine's first impression of him.
"Well! Well!" he remonstrated with a professional briskness, when she nearly bowled him over.

"We seem to be in something of a hurry! Is this the patient I was sent to examine ?" "No!" Lorraine flashed impatiently over her shoulder as she rushed into her own room and began turning down the covers.

"It's dad, of course--and you'd better get your coat off and get ready to go to work, because I expect he's just one mass of broken bones!" The doctor smiled behind his whiskers and returned to the doorway to direct the carrying in of his patient.

His sharp eyes went immediately to Brit's face, pallid under the leathery tan, his fingers went to Brit's hairy, corded wrist.