Casualty 1909 (2009) - full transcript

You didn't have to stay,

you know.

- I wanted to.

- Well, he'd better have

been no trouble.

Tea.

Ada, it's half past six.

Ada.

Tea.

Where?

It's on the table.

If you want it,

you have to get up and get it.

Can't you bring it to me?

I know you.

You'll fall back to sleep.

Nurse Bennett, I order you

to bring me that cup of tea,

as your superior.

Not horizontal, you're not.

Wake up, ladies!

It's half past six.

The sick are on the march.

The London is calling.

The London is calling!

Your colleagues

will be pleased to see you.

You look well, brother.

Your eyes are clearer

than I've seen in months.

You seem focused and fit.

My dearest Edith,

God has answered our prayers.

You are my god, Henry.

I pray to you.

I'll fetch your jacket.

Nurse Bennett?

What are you doing lurking

there?

Doctors don't lurk, Nurse

Bennett. We wait patiently

- then strike with surgical

precision.

- How exciting.

- How are you?

- All the better for seeing you.

Though you don't seem

quite as happy to see me.

It's not you. It's, er,

well, it's...this place.

Meaning?

No matter how many we cure

or patch up, more will always

come.

Poor Dr Culpin.

Perhaps you should change

your Christian name from

"Millais" to "Mmalaise".

Why don't we see if I can't

cheer you up this evening?

Have you completed the work

I set on the lymphatic system?

- I stayed up half the night

with Gray's Anatomy.

- That's not what I asked.

I find lymphatics so tedious.

Before your brother died, you'd

have digested the subject in a

week.

It's been three now.

I know.

Ethel, we, each of us, get

less from life than we expect,

but if you lower your

expectations, you will,

I guarantee,

receive even less than that,

and deservedly so.

In which case, I shall fully

expect to see you this

evening.

You see Mr Gray this evening.

- She doesn't seem to be ill or

injured.

- Inebriated?

She doesn't seem to be.

Well, if she's neither drunk,

hurt nor sick, then what the

bloody hell is she doing here?

- Nurse, get this man a sputum

mug, will you?

- Yes, Matron.

- Dr Culpin, where is Sister

Russell?

- I have no idea.

Well, have you had any word from

nursing quarters that she's

unwell?

None.

Does she make a habit

of being late for work?

No, Matron. She doesn't.

- Now, if you'll excuse me, I've

a patient to attend to.

- Yes, of course.

Sister Russell!

Miss Luckes.

- May I have a word with you

in your office?

- Of course.

So, Maude, what is it today?

- My chest.

- What about it?

Pains, Doctor. All over.

I know that you are not prone

to laziness, so, I expect a

reason

for you being late this morning.

I will not lie to you,

Miss Luckes. I overslept.

- You've never overslept before.

- No.

Very well.

I've been spending my evenings

helping a poor family

in lodgings at Wilkes Street,

teaching the mother how to

maintain hygiene in the home.

I've also showed her how to

feed her children as

nutritiously as she is able

on a pauper's budget.

And this has kept you up

until what hour?

It may vary, depending on what

time the mother returns home

from work.

I will often sit up with the

children until the early hours.

I can scarcely believe my ears.

The family needs me.

I need you to set an example

to your nurses and

probationers beneath you.

A constant and immaculate

example of self discipline.

Now, later today,

you will assist me

in interviewing

prospective probationers.

We will judge whether they are

suitable to join this hospital.

I now find myself questioning

whether you are fit

to sit in such judgement.

- The woman was a patient here.

- You followed her home.

I became aware of her wider

needs which I felt in my duty...

Your duties are limited to the

patients of the London Hospital,

within the four walls

of the London Hospital.

You have no duty to engage

in personal projects

of your own making.

Do I make myself clear?

Yes, Matron.

I'll see you later...

...assuming you can stay awake.

Straight down and left.

What in God's name are they?

Bulbs.

- High voltage?

- Progress.

- Can I put it down?

- Not yet.

Perhaps a yucca

or, better still, an aspidistra.

Excellent, gentlemen.

Straight through.

- They are going to be wonderful.

- The crates or the delivery

boys?

The contents of the crates

carried by the delivery boys.

Princess Hatzfeld has given them

exclusively to us, Ernest.

The deserving poor will

derive great relief from them.

While the undeserving rich

will pay for the cachet

of availing themselves of the

very latest trend from the

continent. It's the perfect

outcome

for the London. It's like, um...

It's like tossing a coin that

lands both simultaneously

"heads" and "tails".

Well, a dry bath

sounds pretty rum to me.

A hot, dry bath for the

treatment of rheumatic gout

by electrically heated air

is anything but rum, Ernest.

I think her jaw might be broken.

Um, I am just going to look

at your jaw.

I am not going to hurt you.

I am a doctor, it's fine.

Jesus Christ!

No man touch!

Stop her, will you?

- Dr Ingrams?

- The creature just bit me!

Why was she here?

I saw her face, I suspected a

broken jaw, went to examine her

and the stupid bitch bit me!

Let me take a look at your hand.

- It's deep.

- Yes, I know!

On the bright side,

I think we can safely say

her jaw is not broken.

How do you find it, Ernest?

Comfortable enough.

According to the specifications,

a hot air temperature

of 170 to 200 degrees

can be achieved in five minutes,

rising to 300 in 10!

Extraordinary!

Listen...

an ordinary treatment is going

to cost us tuppence in

electricity.

If we charged the poor nothing

and those who can pay,

one florin,

we could potentially net

hundreds of pounds a year.

At the cost of turning

The London into a spa!

Nonsense. Everyone who uses the

baths will be The London's

patients.

Heads and tails, Ernest.

Heads and tails.

Just thought I'd pop my head

round the door to say, well,

hello!

- Hello.

- What time are you in theatre?

9.00.

Well, old man, break a leg.

That won't be necessary.

I'm performing a hysterectomy.

Excellent.

Excellent. Er, better get a clip

on. Good to see you back, Henry.

And you.

And how long have you been

coughing up blood?

Three months, four.

- A lot of the walkers suffer the

same.

- Walkers?

When you lack a home

for want of good health,

you must take to the streets.

Or should you happen to find a

bench somewhere and close your

eyes,

you can depend upon a policeman

to rouse you and order you to

move along.

Or should you find a darkened

alley some...

- Am I boring you?

- Of course not.

- An axe embedded in my forehead

would be more entertaining?

- I'm so sorry.

And this will do what?

Enable us to see whether or not

you have contracted

tuberculosis.

How?

Well, over the next 72 hours,

your body will respond to

the contents of the injection,

and the severity of the response

will tell us what we need

to know.

And if I have tuberculosis,

is there a cure?

There's a treatment.

Come back in three days,

Mr Prescott.

We'll talk again.

In anticipation of the worst

when the cough first appeared,

I left my wife...

...and my children

for fear of infecting them.

But walking the streets

is breaking me.

I need you to make me well,

doctor. Please.

Come back in three days.

Gentlemen, you are about to

observe a

total hysterectomy

with bilateral or unilateral

salpingo-oophorectomy

and the removal of the cervix.

If the cancer is advanced, we

may well remove the

surrounding lymph nodes as well.

This technique,

known as a radical hysterectomy,

was pioneered only recently,

it was four years ago.

By a Viennese professor

of gynaecology

by the name of...

Somebody?

Anybody?

Quickly. Before the patient

expires.

Ernst Wertheim.

Creator of the Wertheim

hysterectomy. Very good.

Have you assisted

on such an operation before?

I have read about it.

Well, then, either you should

read what Nurse Bennett is

reading,

or she should take your place

and you, hers.

I don't recall saying anything

even remotely amusing.

Are we ready, Dr Bennett?

Yes, we are.

Then let us commence

with the Pfannenstiel incision.

Yes. Come in.

Sister Russell.

Are you quite prepared?

Yes.

Their futures do, after all,

rest in our hands.

Their application forms.

They're getting younger.

Or am I getting older?

Their age remains constant.

Ours, alas, does not.

We are now through

the abdominal wall...

...and the fallopian tubes and

the ovaries are clearly visible.

The uterus sits

just behind the bladder.

If I gently move the bladder

forward, you can see...

Swab.

The next stage is...

to...

...is to, um...

Mr Dean?

...the next stage is to remove

the main body of the uterus,

the cervix

and the upper part

of the vagina.

More swabs, please.

Retractors.

I cannot deny my ambition,

but in my heart is...

...a great conviction

that I can help the sick.

In your references, it says

you are quick to learn

and you relish hard work.

Yes.

Would you describe nursing

as hard work, Miss Lawson?

In the sense that

all real accomplishment

can only be achieved by

hard work,

then, yes.

Miss Lawson, what do you think

should bring a nurse

the greatest sense

of accomplishment,

strictly adhering to

established codes of

practice or

following her own instincts

about the care a patient

may need?

Mr Dean.

I've cut the ureter.

Shall I prepare a suture?

Yes. Get me a suture.

Quickly.

The dedication you spoke of

when caring for your mother,

could you show that

to a complete stranger?

- I should like to think so.

- An inebriate,

who stinks of urine and faeces,

uttering one disgusting

profanity after another?

Well, yes.

I would feel sorry, of course,

for anyone who found

themselves

in such condition, but I

would set aside such

superficialities

to attend to the ailing

patient beneath.

- What about the hours,

Miss Riley?

- The hours?

A nurse must be up

at 5.30 in the morning

and does not finish

until 10.00 at night.

If those are the hours I must

commit to, then I'd do so

gladly.

- In bed, lights out, by 10.30.

- Yes, of course.

You will have to become expert

at lifting patients, fitting

catheters,

changing bedpans.

Much of which I was required to

do for my mother.

And in ten years' time, Miss

Riley,

as you will be aware, nurses

are not permitted to marry.

How do you think

you will cope with spinsterhood,

all your time spent in the

company of patients and

hospital staff,

because the life of a nurse,

Miss Riley, is not one that

allows romance,

- a husband...

- Sister Russell.

...or children.

Mr Dean?

- Mr Dean?

- I can't.

You have to, the ureter needs...

I know what needs to be done!

Get help.

- And thank you, Miss Luckes.

It was a pleasure to meet you.

- The pleasure was mutual.

Nice girl.

Yes.

The woman you've been visiting

in Wilkes Street.

What is her name?

Anna. Anna Baker.

Did you say how many children

she had?

I did not.

She has five.

What ages?

From ten months to eight years.

The reason I asked Miss Riley

if she could transfer

what she did for her mother

to a complete stranger,

was because I wanted to make

a distinction between love

and care.

We do not love our patients,

we care for them.

And if we fraternise with them

outside the hospital,

the line between love and care

may become blurred.

I am always in uniform.

Nevertheless, you were in her

home, looking after her

children.

And even if you can maintain

the necessary distance,

how can you expect Anna

and the children to do the same?

This is our vocation,

Sister Russell.

We cannot risk becoming

emotionally involved

with our patients.

When we do, it can cost us

more than we can afford to give.

When they need us,

truly need us

they will find a way to us, and

we will be here to care

for them.

And that is how it has to be.

Thank you, Matron.

Feast your eyes, gentlemen,

on the human heart.

Down the ages, philosophers

and scientists have considered

this remarkable muscle

to be the seat of thought,

reason, emotion,

while the Stoics believed it

to be the seat of the soul

itself.

Feast your eyes, gentlemen.

You even wash your hands

like a doctor.

Aren't you going to invite me?

I thought we agreed

you'd be studying this evening.

I've been thinking about that.

Thinking is generally considered

to be a good thing.

I think I want to stop.

Every day, I assist surgeons,

knowing that my sex

precludes me from being one.

It precludes me from even taking

my place among their students.

I look at you.

I can never be what you are.

- Other hospitals train women

to be doctors.

- What kind? Shilling doctors?

The kind who can be trusted

to treat verrucas and coughs?

The female kind?

Is that truly worth the risk

we both run in training me?

Ethel, you haven't been yourself

since you buried your brother.

Freddy had his life stolen from

him and I don't want to throw

mine away.

Is there something else you want

to do?

You want to be a doctor so much,

so...become one!

Press on from there.

There are other possibilities,

Millais.

- A doctor's wife?

- Why not?

Because it would be

a criminal waste

of your exceptional abilities!

Talent is one thing.

Opportunity, unfortunately,

is quite another.

Good night, Millais.

Ethel!

Madam, we're closed for the day.

You're going to have to go

home now.

If you saw where I lived,

you wouldn't call it a home.

- Dr Ingrams. You couldn't give

us a hand here?

- I'm due at my club.

She's been sat in the same spot

all day and she refuses to move.

Dr Culpin?

Maude! I told you there's

nothing wrong with you!

Then why am I getting

pains in my chest?

Mrs Anderson.

Where's Mr Anderson?

Maude?

Working up at Swan Hunter

the past three months.

Tyneside?

Beautiful new ship for Cunard's.

And when was the last time

you saw him?

The day he left.

- How much money do you have?

- What?

Come on. How much money

do you have?

I have 12 shillings.

- You're not giving her money!

- You're right. I'm not. We are,

to pay for a trip up north

to see her old man.

Now, put your hand

in your pocket, rich boy.

-20 shillings. She'll spend it

on drink.

- And you weren't going to?

Still, champagne's so different

to beer.

- I think she's telling the

truth.

- What makes you such a good

- judge of character?

- Had you pegged from day one,

didn't I?

Maude,

take the train to Newcastle.

Go and see your husband.

Mwah!

Whoo-hoo!

Amen.

I am clear of cocaine.

I swear to you.

Even if that is the case,

the residual damage to your

nerves appears to have

rendered you

unsafe to operate.

"Even if that is the case"?

Meaning that you don't believe

that I'm clear!

Unfortunately, this has moved

beyond what we may or may

not wish to believe.

If my brother says he is clear

of cocaine, you must believe

him.

My dear woman, Henry's word

is no longer sufficient.

- I am one of the finest

surgeons in London!

- Then let that be your legacy.

And not the needless death

of a patient under your knife.

I was fetched in time to save

the woman this afternoon,

but it was far too close.

Next time, or the time after

that, you mightn't be so

lucky.

If the London will no longer

allow me to practise, then

nowhere will.

Henry, let me spell this out.

You are not safe to practise as

a surgeon anywhere ever again!

This is what you have wanted

all along, isn't it?

This is the revenge that

mediocrity exacts upon

superior talent.

For God's sake, man, you

nearly killed a woman today!

Please, Sydney. One more chance.

- Henry, you've contributed

brilliantly to your...

- Sydney...

I am begging you,

in the name of

my beloved wife and daughter,

do not do this to me,

I beg of you.

I beg of both of you.

We've no intention

of losing a man

of your outstanding gift.

The management council

would like to offer you a

permanent teaching position.

Teaching others what I am

no longer allowed to do myself?

Henry, that's not how it is.

Sydney! That is now precisely

how it is. You may take it or

leave it, Dean.

But you have left us with no

choice.

Souls for bread, is that it?

- The bread is not contingent

on the prayer.

- But prayer comes first.

Is it wrong to be reminded

that all bounty derives

from God, and give thanks?

- How long have you been coming

here?

- Two weeks.

- And before that, I worked the

slums in Princely Street, New...

- Spreading the word...

We each do what we can

according to our calling,

Sister.

Nobody pays you to come here.

Nobody pays me.

I must go.

Goodbye.

Thank you.

If there's anything you need,

you have my card.

Good night, gentlemen.

Terrible, terrible business.

We've done the right thing.

I don't doubt it for a

second.

'The odds will always be

against you, Ethel,

'studying to be a doctor.'

'Do you think I should

give up my ambition?'

- 'Do you?'

- 'Never.'

Take him to bed, and

you're off in a minute.

Late shift tonight.

You've been a little bit quiet

since Elizabeth went.

Have I?

You don't have to admit

everyone who comes knocking,

Anna.

If you need more food or coal,

ask me and I'll see what I

can do.

I have to take what I'm offered.

I can bring everything you need.

And when you get bored

of bringing it, then what?

When you get yourself a chap,

you know,

yeah, and you got better things

to do?

- Who helps us then?

- That won't happen.

You're a good woman, Ada

Russell,

But I know what this is,

even if you don't.

What do you mean?

- You cradle my baby like a

pet cat.

- I do no such thing!

Like I said, you're kind

and you're good to my children.

But you knock on my door

for your reasons and I

let you in for mine.

That goes for anyone else

offering help.

That's just the way it is.

The stone steps of the old

Nurses' Home are in a very

bad way.

Several nurses have fallen

as a consequence.

- Cost to repair?

-30 pounds.

Fallen, you say?

Not merely stumbled?

Several have actually fallen.

Well, we can't have

actually falling nurses, can we?

Granted.

A request to cover

the hot-water pipes

in the outpatients' department.

- Cost, 110 pounds.

- No.

A request to put heating

in the post mortem department.

Cost 60 pounds.

Surely heat is the last thing

one would want in the

post mortem department.

- The request comes from the

chief pathologist.

Granted, and move swiftly.

Once again, a request for an

extra telephone in the theatre

floor.

- From?

- Mr Dean.

How did he take the decision

this evening?

With great dignity,

nevertheless.

We need to obtain a loan of

7,500 pounds from the bank to

pay the tradesmen's accounts.

Agreed.

An increase to the salary

of Dr Gilbert Scott

by five shillings.

Taking him to...?

Two pounds, six shillings a

week. Hardly a great sum.

You look at Gilbert Scott

and see a deserving young

radiographer.

I look at him and see the tip

of a potentially ruinous

iceberg.

What time is it?

12:37.

...God!

- Details!

- Fire.

- We'll need boracic baths.

- On their way down.

Fire, sir.

Dr Culpin. I have no idea

what it might be, but whatever

assistance we can offer...

- Much appreciated. Right, let's,

er...let's clear a space here.

- Where is Sister Russell?

Sister, it's a fire. Mr Holland

and Mr Morris are at your

disposal.

For fetching, carrying, lifting.

Mr Morris is somewhat squeamish

at the sight of bodily fluids,

but in all other respects,

use us as you see fit.

- Screens, please, gentlemen.

- Thank you.

Where is Nurse Bennett?

With all due respect, Matron,

this is no time for a roll call.

We need to prep for burns,

breaks and smoke inhalation.

- Which area was the fire up?

Two on the floor, side by side.

One against the wall.

Right away, Matron.

- Thank you, gentlemen.

We'll box it in.

- Yes, Matron.

Here they come, ladies and

gentlemen. You wouldn't give me

a hand, Mr Morris?

I'll make the initial assessment

as they're coming in.

She's dead.

Another kiddie,

no more than eight years old.

Also dead.

Sweatshop fire. All children.

Set up a makeshift morgue

in exam room two.

- I'll take care of that.

- Thank you, Matron.

- I shall need sheets and an

apron.

- Straight away.

He's alive! Morphia!

Prepare a boracic bath

to soak off his clothes.

This will help your burned

clothes float free from your

skin.

It might sting a little, but

only because it is working.

Right!

There's a good boy. Well...

Dr Culpin!

No.

What's your name?

Florence.

Florence, be brave.

Baths. Baths.

Nurse Bennett.

Sit him down.

Doctor!

- Mr Prescott.

- I was walking in the vicinity.

She's alive, Doctor,

but only just.

- Good to see you Ingrams

A sweatshop fire.

- I, er...

Do what you can...and sober up.

Thank you, Mr Prescott.

Sir, would you like to sit

for a moment?

I saw a glow

from behind the rooftops,

and then I smelled the smoke.

There were people running in

every direction and shouting.

A woman screaming,

there were children inside.

So I went in.

I could feel my eyeballs

starting to dry out.

But I managed to somehow drag

them out.

The building was an oven,

flaming timber, splitting wood,

popping.

We were inside a bonfire.

It could have been the devil

himself.

Take small sips.

If it were possible,

a glass of water.

- Matron...

- Yes?

I believe your skills

are more needed with the living.

As they come in...would you wrap

them as if they were your own...

...as their parents

would wrap them?

I shall.

Very slowly.

The bath will help you,

Florence.

Dr Culpin.

Have you inhaled a great deal

of smoke?

The heat and toxins you have

taken in may have damaged your

airway.

Take deep breaths.

Would you prefer to lie down?

Fetch a chair.

I used to box for my university.

I once saw a fellow come out

of the ring perfectly

compos mentis

only to collapse an hour later.

He died.

Is Mr Fenwick on his way in?

- He refuses to have a telephone

at home.

- Any other surgeons expected?

Messages have been left,

but none live local.

Where is the pain?

- In the side?

- Yeah.

Let's take a look at you.

Fetch me a stethoscope, please.

Take a deep, slow breath.

Swelling.

Just who I needed.

- Nurse Bennett requests the use

of a stethoscope.

- Give it to her.

Come straight back, please.

- Tracheotomy kit.

- Yes, doctor.

The ancients used to drill holes

in skulls to free evil spirits.

We do it to alleviate

the pressure from haemorrhage.

Progress.

- Now, I saw this once

during training.

- I see.

I was, however, standing at the

back. We were a large group of

medical students.

Hold his head, please, and

firmly.

We don't want it slipping off

the end of the drill.

Lean forward, please.

Don't move.

- Dr Culpin, I think we have

a tension pneumothorax.

- Why?

The patient is struggling for

breath. The respiration is

deteriorating. There is an

- absence of audible breath

sounds.

- Which indicates?

The lung is not properly

unfolded in the pleural

cavity.

- Have you percussed the chest?

- I did and I got hyperresonance.

- You sure?

- I think so.

Do you think or do you know?

There's a sign of a broken rib,

possibly two. One of the

fractured ends

may have inverted into

the lung.

- Do you know the procedure?

- I know, but I'm not

qualified to do it.

- Do you know the procedure?

If you know it, do it.

- Dr Culpin...

Do it, Ethel.

If it is a tension pneumothorax,

you haven't much time.

- You've got it.

- Swab, please.

Thank you.

- Dr Ingrams...

- Not now.

Have the tracheotomy tube ready.

Ada!

Anna?

The boys are safe

but Peggy's missing.

- We heard that children

were being taken to the London.

- Yes.

To the morgue.

How many more are in there?

Five.

Excuse me, Matron.

The first rib

can't normally be felt.

The second rib can be felt

just below the collarbone.

The second intercostal space

is the area in between the

second and third rib.

Dr Culpin.

All right. Let's...

let's get her over here.

- Peggy!

- Anna, wait!

- Peggy!

- Wait.

You have to stay here, Anna.

She's Anna's.

What should I tell her?

I need glycerine and borax

to clear the airway.

Identify second rib and

the second intercostal space

and the mid clavicular line

in the centre of the collarbone.

Needle.

Insert the needle

over the third rib,

through the intercostal space,

and into the chest cavity.

A small prayer might not go,

at this point, unanswered.

- Nurse Bennett, what are you

doing?

- A needle thoracentesis.

None of the doctors were

available.

Nurse Bennett,

what do you think you're doing?

- Sorry, Matron. What was the

question?

- Stethoscope.

Hold that there, please.

You did it. Good. Keep an eye

on him. You may need to repeat.

Nurse, your top button is

undone.

- Yes, Matron.

- Miss Luckes...

Drink this.

Miss Luckes, in the midst of all

this, does it honestly matter

that the button is undone?

Yes. I think it matters

very much, Doctor. It is a

matter of discipline.

Nurse Bennett, would you come

with me, please?

- Yes, Miss Luckes.

- Ethel, stay there.

- A doctor does not call a nurse

by her Christian name.

- Stay where you are!

And attend to your patient.

- A nurse does not have

a patient, doctor.

- You have my pity, Miss Luckes.

All round you the flames of

modernity are blazing as

fiercely as the fire

that tore through the slum,

yet there you stand, trying

to keep

everything right in its bloody

place. With buttons and all.

Dr Culpin, where did Nurse

Bennett learn to do a

needle thoracentesis?

It is not in any of the

nursing manuals.

- It is to her credit

if she reads widely.

- Dr Culpin!

Not if it interferes with her

true vocation.

In any other London hospital,

she could train as a doctor.

This hospital believes the

profession is not suitable

for women.

Meaning, you are not suited

to the profession.

- Dr Culpin!

- How dare you?

How dare you impose your

own limitations on the

aspirations of others?

I don't doubt you're a great

force for good, Miss Luckes,

but for progress, not at all!

Progress is not always for the

best.

That rather depends upon how far

ahead one chooses to look.

Dr Culpin!

She's going.

Do something.

Do something.

Peggy!

I'm sorry.

No!

No!

Peggy!

If you'd find Dr Culpin and ask

him to join us. Form a line...

Form two lines over here,

wouldn't you?

Start to line up...

Shh, shh, shh.

I thought I'd find you

breathing the wards.

In all my years at this

hospital, Sydney, I have never

been spoken to like that.

It was very late, the end

of a long and gruelling night.

When you came to the London,

you were faced with a nursing

system that was

inefficient, inadequate and

unorganised. There was a blight

over everything.

One operating theatre with only

one table, for goodness' sake,

a wooden affair that, frankly,

wouldn't have been out of place

in a butcher's shop.

Nobody knew that you'd become

one of the ablest,

most remarkable women

of the age.

You transformed this hospital.

We've seen a few fiery young

doctors in our time,

all of them eager

to malign the status quo,

which is their right,

if not their duty.

But...you and I know

what came before.

You and I know how far the

London has come, because,

you and I dragged it

out of decrepitude,

inch by, forgive me,

bloody inch.

You don't regret me asking you

to come here, do you, Sydney?

My dear Eva, I refuse to dignify

that question with a response.

May I walk the wards with you?

Yes.

Yes. I should like that

very much indeed.