This last bit was a pleasant surprise—a glint of an independent, thinking spirit! I decided I would be candid. I told her of the surgeon’s refusing to lend me a book. Instantly, and for the first time that I can recall, I had her complete attention. Not lend a book! The pompous old so-and-so. She would complain to her aunt and uncle on my behalf… but no, they would likely side with the doctor. There’s a book shop in Portland—they have very little on their shelves, but perhaps they might order it from San Francisco. It could take weeks, months even! “What is the topic of the book?” she thought
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