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Show 295 "I see they've put you in the hospital," Lorin said, his eyes darting nervously up and down the length of the bed, stopping at the tray full of plastic bottles at the head, flicking a glance at the vase of flowers on the table beside the neighboring bed, returning to poor Sorenson, who lay motionless, his mouth half open, his eyes barely slits. His hands lay folded loosely on the blanket that was pulled up to his chest. Without his glasses his face looked sunken. "I can see I should have brought you here myself," Lorin said. "Last night," he added. A long, low moan escaped Sorenson, and he closed his eyes the rest of the way. "I mean, we both thought it would pass," Lorin said. "A little stomach upset. Neither of us thought it was anything like food poisoning. I guess the joke was on us, ha ha." Sorenson's mouth closed and he swallowed once. "It was certainly nice of Mrs. Green to haul you down here for me while I was racked out on the couch. I've already thanked her, of course." Lorin became aware that the man in the next bed was paying close attention to the conversation. He sat down in the cold white metal chair closest to Sorenson's head, to insure privacy. "Anything you'd like me to tell her, just say the word and I'll pass it on," he added. Sorenson took a deep breath, let it out slowly, followed it up with several shorter breaths, groaned once and swallowed again. "Feeling any better?" Lorin asked. There was a barely perceptible movement of Sorenson's head. It might have been a nod. Lorin noticed that his upper lip, beside the wings of his nostrils, had a greenish tinge. "Well, you just stay here and get well, old buddy," he said. "I'll take |