With one glance she lurched against the casing and then she plunged down the hall, entered her room, closed the door behind her, and threw herself on the bed.

She had only a glance, but in that glance she had seen Peter Mines sitting fully clothed, his hat on his head, his stick in his hands, in her easy chair; the operating table folded and standing against the wall; Mrs.Holt holding the camphor bottle to Peter's nose, while George had one hand over Peter's heart, the other steadying his head.
The doctor swung the table in place, and with George's help laid Peter on it, then began tearing open his clothes.

As they worked the two men followed into the house to see if they could do anything and excited neighbours began to gather.

George and his mother explained how Peter had exhausted himself walking two miles from the country that hot morning, how he had entered the office, tottering with fatigue, and had fallen in the chair in a fainting condition.

Everything was plausible until a neighbour woman, eager to be the centre of attention for a second, cried: "Yes, we all see him come more'n an hour ago; and when he begin to let out the yells we says to each other, 'THERE! George has got his first patient, sure!' An' we all kind of waited to see if he'd come out better." The doctor looked at her sharply: "More than an hour ago ?" he said.
"You heard cries ?" "Yes, more'n a good hour ago.