The moving finger

THE swish of starched skirts caused the man in the bed to roll slowly over, and for the first time patient and nurse regarded each other. The silence grew protracted. "Well?" The man's tone was husky and the short interrogation was almost lost among the pillows. He made a second attempt, and this time his voice carried across the room. "What—what do you want?" The nurse's eyes, pupils dilated, s...