He rather
chuckled once; that is, it began in a chuckle, and ended with the
semblance of a grunt, and when he finally swung the car down the Midway,
he was saying to himself: "Glad of it! I've been wanting for a long time
to tell that Lane what I thought of him."
Inquiries over the telephone had developed the fact that through some
shifting about, Dr. George Lane was temporary head of the department; it
was to Dr. George Lane then that Dr. Parkman must go with the matter in
hand this morning. That had seemed bad at first, for Lane was one man out
there he couldn't get on with and did not want to. They always clashed;
upon their last meeting Lane had said--"Really now, Dr. Parkman, don't
you feel that a broader culture is the real need of the medical
profession?" and Parkman had retorted, "Shouldn't wonder, but has it ever
struck you, Dr. Lane, that a little more horse sense is the real need of
the university professor?" He declared, grimly, as he finally drew his
car to a snorting stop at the university that he would have to try some
other method than "firing his soul," as Ernestine had bade him do.
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