k, in a frowning abstraction, found
himself on the left of the center line and had to pull back into his
own lane.

He had lost patients before, but never without a feeling of personal
defeat. Edith said he put too much of himself into every operation.
Perhaps he did. And yet--No, there was every reason why the young man
should have lived. Yet, just as Mark Williams had felt that he had
been successful, the patient had died.

In twenty years of marriage, Edith Williams had learned to read his
thoughts at times. Now she put a hand comfortingly on his arm.

"These things happen, darling," she said. "You know that. A doctor can
only do so much. Some of the job always remains in the hands of
Nature. And she does play tricks at times."

"Yes, confound it, I know it," her husband growled. "But I resent
losing that lad. There was no valid reason for it--unless there was
some complication I overlooked." He shook his head, scowling. "I
ordered an autopsy but--Yes, I'm going to do that autopsy myself. I'm
going to turn back and do it now. I have to know!"

He pulled abruptly to the left to swing into a side road and turn.
Edith Williams never saw the car that hit them. She heard the frantic
blare of a horn and a scream of brakes, and in a frozen instant
realized that there had been someone behind them, about to pass. Then
the impact came, throwing her forward into the windshield and
unconsciousness.

* * * * *

Edith Williams opened her eyes. Even before she realized that she was
lying on the ground and that the figure bending over her was a State
Trooper, she remembered the crash. Her head hurt but there was no
confusion in her mind. Automatically, even as she tried to sit up, she
accepted the fact that there had been a crash, help had come, and she
must have been unconscious for several minutes at least.

"Hey, lady, take it easy!" the Trooper protested. "You had a bad bump.
You got to lie still until the ambulance gets here. It'll be along in
five minutes."

"Mark," Edith said, paying no attention. "My husband! Is he all
right?"

"Now lady, please. He's being taken care of. You--"

But she was not listening. Holding to his arm she pulled herself to a
sitting position. She saw their car on its side some yards away, other
cars pulled up around them, a little knot of staring people. Saw them
and dismissed them. Her gaze found her husband, lying on the ground a
few feet away, a coat fo