Doctor in Love

Doctor in Love

Language: English

Pages: 192


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

In this hilarious romantic comedy, Richard Gordon awakes one morning with a headache. It takes him a while to realise he is ill – after all he is a doctor! Dr Pennyworth diagnoses jaundice and prescribes a spell in hospital. But amongst the bedpans and injections on Honesty ward, Richard falls in love – with his very own Florence Nightingale. However he soon learns that he has a rival for her affections, and unwilling to lose his love to the pachyderm Dr Hinyman, Richard sets out to impress…

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Grimsdyke has been called away on a long case and isn’t likely to return,” I explained. Seeing her face drop in childlike disappointment, I added, “I’m Dr Gordon. Is there anything I can do for you?” “Dr Grimsdyke promised he’d make me his receptionist.” “Did he?” I said, brightening immediately. “That’s different. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t keep a promise for him, is there?” She gave a glance which I felt compared me unfavourably with my late colleague. “If you’d like to join the

little piece of goods from Bedford College for Women, but that apparently wasn’t the idea at all. So I decided to chum with the fellow standing next to me, who was a quiet sort called Erskine who said he was a schoolmaster.” “We got on all right at first. We were put in a sort of packing-case-bungalow with all mod. cons. The food and the daily beer issue were left at the doorstep, just like the plague of London, and MacRitchie appeared every morning to drop measles virus down our noses. There

of some morning clothes?” “Our hiring department would be delighted to be at your disposal, sir. Small door off the street, just round the corner.” As I was greeted by another man inside the discreet door, the performance suddenly brought a sense of dêja vu, as though I had somehow observed it all before. The first nervous and shameful enquiry, the cheerfully broadminded tone of the directions, the sheltered door, the tactful segregation, the air of silent comradeship among the other customers…

looking much the same as when suffering incipient fatherhood in St Swithin’s. “You’re a bit soon for the party, Tony,” said Grimsdyke shortly. “Did Molly let you off the chain early or something?” “Is that a drink?” demanded Benskin. He grabbed my glass, murmured “Hello, Richard,” and took a long swig. “There isn’t a chain any more, Grim,” he announced. “Molly and I have separated.” “What!” we cried together. “Irrevocably and completely separated,” said Benskin, swallowing the rest of the

for your first night’. Husband wouldn’t speak to me for months afterwards.” “Well, that’s about all, then?” “Yes, old lad. That’s about all.” For a second we looked at each other. Grimsdyke and I had been the closest of friends since the day we had first met outside the lecture-hall at St Swithin’s, when we both faced life from the laughably low status of first-year medical students. Together we had cheerfully struggled or schemed our way through the course, and together we had made our first

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