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and been mended again, and the knot ran round the short, endless course, silhouetted against the window.
    Miss Green whimpered as he began drilling. It seemed her nerve had broken at the first touch of the revolving drill-head, that she now had no restraint and was crying whether she was hurt or not. Her little, half-smothered noises hardly sounded human at all: Katherine leaned forward, aware that though she could hear them the dentist could not.
    There was a faint cracking, and the dentist stopped the drill to fit in another head: Katherine could see the size of it even from where she sat. The small gas-fire was burning her legs, but she did not move them away.
    The drilling started again, and the little quavering moans. This time there was a definite crackling sound, quite audible. One of Miss Green’s feet lifted a second from the iron foot-rest, then was jammed back again as quickly.
    “Will you wash your mouth out,” he said, ceasing. With a push he sent the drill back to its former position, like the sketched-in shape of a hooded bird watching the scene. Miss Green bent over the bowl, a glass of water at her lips, not at all as she had drunk at the fountain. As she spat out the fragments of the filling she slobbered ludicrously, and was instantly self-conscious, trying to break the hanging thread by feeble spitting movements, searching for the handkerchief that was in her bag, and at last clumsily catching it away with her hand. Katherine quickly crossed to her and put her own handkerchief in her lap. She took it blindly.
    In the meantime the dentist was busy in a corner with a hypodermic syringe. Miss Green was watching him, and when she had collected herself sufficiently, asked
    “Are you going to take it out?”
    “Pardon?”
    “If you are going to take it out, I want gas.”
    Her voice sounded on the edge of tears. The dentist advanced a few steps.
    “Gas?” he said in his flat voice. The sleeves of his white coat did not quite cover the cuffs of his jacket.
    “Yes, I want gas.”
    “I can’t give you gas.”
    A short silence.
    “Why not?”
    “I can’t give it you. My assistant isn’t here, she doesn’t come on Saturdays. I can’t give you gas without an assistant .”
    “But I want gas.”
    “Pardon?”
    “I must have gas.”
    “I can’t give you gas.” He stood looking down at her, holding the syringe. “My assistant isn’t here. I am not allowed to administer total anaesthetic without an assistant present.”
    He sounded as if he were speaking into a telephone.
    “But I can’t——”
    “An ordinary injection will do as well,” he said, not heeding, “The pain——”
    “But——”
    Miss Green’s voice broke in a sob. With the filling of her tooth broken down, she sounded near hysterics, as if she might scream. Quickly Katherine said:
    “But surely you could?”
    “Pardon?”
    He turned, head dropped, to face this new attack.
    “Surely you could give her gas. Dentists often do, on their own.”
    Her own voice sounded unnatural, raised to penetrate his deafness. He said slowly and bad-temperedly:
    “Pardon me, but they do not. If——”
    “They——”
    “No ordinary dentist is allowed to administer total anaesthetic, without a qualified nurse or doctor in attendance ,” he said loudly.
    “But surely it doesn’t need two people,” she argued, striking from a new quarter. “Surely you could do it.”
    “A local anaesthetic is all I can give,” he repeated crossly, turning from side to side as if at bay.
    “But why? What are they afraid of?”
    He would not answer.
    “There is no danger of heart failure, or that sort of thing. No danger at all. My friend has had gas before——”
    He was silent, turning the syringe irritably in his hands. Miss Green was collapsed in the chair, seeming to pay no attention. The tap in the bowl clucked occasionally.
    “There is really no danger at all. She has had gas before. But she is very sensitive—an injection might—that