Marda West stared beyond them down the corridor. The whole floor was in the deception". A maid, carrying dustpan and brush, coming from the room next door, had a weasel's" head upon her small body, and the nurse advancing from the other side was a little kitten, her cap coquettish on her furry curls, the doctor beside her a proud lion.
Fear came to Marda West. How could they have known she would open the door at that minute? Something of her fear must have shown in her face, for Nurse Brand, the cow, took hold of her and led her back into her room.
"I'm rather tired," Marda West said. "I'd like to sleep."
"That's right," said Nurse Brand and gave her a sedative".
The sedative acted swiftly.
Soon peaceful darkness came, but she awoke, to lunch brought in by the kitten. Nurse Brand was off duty.
"How long must it go on for?" asked Marda West. She had adjusted herself" to the trick.
"How do you mean, Mrs. West?" asked the kitten, smiling. Such a flighty little thing, with its pursed-up mouth, and even as it spoke it put a hand to its cap.
"This test on my eyes," said the patient, uncovering the boiled chicken on her plate. "I don't see the point of it."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. West," the kitten said, "I don't follow you. Did you tell Nurse Brand you couldn't see properly yet?"
"It's not that I can't see," replied Marda West. "I see perfectly well. The chair is a chair. The table is a table. I'm about to eat boiled chicken. But why do you look like a kitten?" 'I see what I see,' said the patient. "You are a cat, if you like, and Nurse Brand's a cow."
This time the insult must sound deliberate. Nurse Sweeting, that was the cat's name, had fine whiskers to her mouth. The whiskers bristled.
"If you please, Mrs. West," she said, "will you eat your chicken, and ring the bell when you are ready for the next course?"
She left the room.
No, they could not be wearing masks. And the staff of the hospital could not possibly put on such an act for one patient, for Marda West alone – the expense would be too great. The fault must lie in the lenses, then.
A sudden thought stuck her, and pushing the trolley table aside she climbed out of bed and went over the dressing-table. Her own face stared back at her from the looking-glass. The dark lenses concealed the eyes, but the face was at least her own.
"Thank heaven for that," she said to herself, but it swung her back to thoughts of trickery". Her first idea of masks had been the right one. But why?
She would try one further proof. She stood by the window, the curtain concealing her, and watched for passersby. For the moment there was no one in the street. It was the lunch-hour, and traffic was slack. Then, at the other end of the street, a taxi crossed, too far away for her to see the driver's head. She waited. A van drew near, but she could not see the driver... yes, he slowed as he wentby the nursing-home and she saw the frog's head.
Sick at heart, she left the window and climbed back into bed. She had no further appetite and pushed away her plate, the rest of the chicken untasted. She did not ring her bell, and after a while the door opened. The kitten, put the coffee down without a word, and Marda West irritated – for surely, if anyone was to show annoyance, it should be herself? – said sharply, "Shall I pour you some milk in the saucer?"
The kitten turned. "A joke's a joke, Mrs. West," she said, "and I can take a laugh with anyone. But I c an't s tand rudeness."
"Miaow," said Marda West.
The patient was in disgrace. She did not care. If the staf f of the nursing-home thought they could win this battle, they were mistaken. Marda went to the telephone and asked the exchange to put her through to her husband's office. She remembered a moment afterwards that he would still be at lunch. Nevertheless, she got the number, and as luck had it he was there.
"Jim... Jim, darling,"
The relief to hear the loved familiar voice. She lay back on the bed, the receiver to her ear.
"Darling, when can you get here?"
"Not before this evening, I'm afraid. Well, how did it go? Is everything O.K.?"
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean? Can't you see?"
How was she to explain what had happened to her? It sounded so foolish over the telephone.
"Yes, I can see. I can see perfectly. It's just that ... that all the nurses look like animals. And the surgeon too. He's a fox terrier."
"What on earth are you talking about?"
He was saying something to his secretary at the same time, something about another appointment, and she knew from the tone of his voice that he was very busy, very busy, and she had chosen the worst time to ring him up.
Marda West knew it was no use. She must wait till he came. Then she would try to explain everything, and he would be able to find out for himself what lay behind it.
"Oh, never mind," she said. "I'll tell you later."
"I'm sorry," he told her, "but I really am in a hurry."
Then she rang off. She put down the telephone.
It was much later in the afternoon that Matron called in to have a word with her. She knew it was Matron because of her clothes. But inevitably now, without surprise, she observed the sheep's head.
"I hope you're quite comfortable, Mrs. West?"
"Yes, thank you."
Marda West spoke guardedly". It would not do to anger the Matron.
"The lenses fit well?"
"Very well."
"I'm so glad. It was a nasty operation, and you've stood the period of waiting so very well. Mrs. West…" The Matron seemed uncomfortable, and turned her sheep's head away from the woman in the bed, "Mrs. West, I hope you won't mind what I'm going to say, but our nurses do a fine job here and we are all very proud of them. They work long hours, as you know, and it is not really very kind to mock" them, although I am sure you intend it in f un."
"Is it because I called Nurse Sweeting a kitten?"
"I don't know what you called her, Mrs. West, but she was quite distressed". She came to me in the of fice nearly crying."
"It won't happen again. But Matron," said Marda West, "What is the object of it all?"
"The object of what, Mrs. West?"
"This dressing up."
There was silence. The Matron moved slowly to the MISSED.
"I hope," she said, "when you leave us in a few days, Mrs. West, that you will look back on us with greater tolerance than you appear to have now."
She left the room. Marda West closed her eyes. She opened them again. Why was it only people had changed? What was so wrong with people? She kept her eyes shut when her tea was brought to her, and when the voice said pleasantly. "Some flowers for you, Mrs. West," she did not even open them, but waited for the owner of the voice to leave the room. The flowers were carnations".The card was Jim's. And the message on it said, "Cheer up. We're not as bad as we seem."
She smiled, and buried her face in the flowers. Nothing false about them. Nothing strange about the scent. Carnations were carnations, fragrant, graceful. Even the nurse on duty who came to put them in water could not irritate her with her pony's head. Af ter all, it was a trim little pony, with a white star on its forehead. "Thank you,"smiled Marda West.
The curious day dragged on, and she waited restlessly for eight o'clock. She realized, so strange had been the day, that she had not once thought about Nurse Ansel. Dear, comforting Nurse Ansel. Nurse Ansel, who was due to come on duty at eight. was she also in the conspiracy?" If she was, then Marda West would have a showdown".Nurse Ansel would never lie. She would go up to her, and put her hands on her shoulders, and take the mask in her two hands, and say to her, "There, now take it off.You won't deceive me."
At that moment the door opened and a long snake's head came into view.
"How does it feel to see yourself again?"
Nurse Ansel's voice coming from the head seemed grotesque and horrible. Marda West felt sick at the sight ofher.
"Poor dear, they should have kept you quiet, the first day," Nurse Ansel said.