"You know, it's funny how superstitions linger. Even John had a premonition," Nancy said to the nurse. "He was in pain. But when the doctor told us it was appendicitis, I stopped worrying. An appendectomy is the simplest operation in the world, isn't it?"

"Well," said the nurse. "No operation is really simple."

There was something in her tone that made Mrs. Boulder's hands tighten. She tried to remain calm. All the nurse had said was that no operation was simple. That was all.

Mrs. Boulder's dark, middle-aged face suddenly showed the lines normally hidden by her ever-present smile. The happy brown eyes became dull with a gnawing terror and her brisk gait became a forced trudge. She held her pocketbook in front of her chest like a shield. All the nurse had said was that no operation was simple. So why should she worry?

"Everything worked out all right, didn't it?" asked Mrs. Boulder. "I mean, John is all right, isn't he? Tell me he's all right!"

"The doctor will explain everything," said the nurse.

"I mean he's all right. He's all right, isn't he? John's all right." Mrs. Boulder's voice rose, loud and tense. She grasped the nurse by an arm. "Tell me John's all right. Tell me he's all right."

"Your husband was not my patient."

"Was? Was?"

"He is not my patient. Is," said the nurse and freed her arm with a fast snap of the elbow.

"Oh, thank God," said Mrs. Boulder. "Thank merciful God."

The nurse, beyond an arm's distance, led Mrs. Boulder down the corridor to a frosted glass door that read, "Anaesthesiology. Dr. Daniel Demmet, Chief."

"The doctor is waiting for you," said the nurse, knocking twice on the door. Before Mrs. Boulder could say thank you for showing her the way to the doctor's office, the nurse was gone, walking very quickly down the hall as if on an urgent matter. If Mrs. Boulder had not had as much faith in hospitals as she did, she would have sworn it was flight.