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Debbie Hayes stopped short in alarm as a big white truck, bearing the words WILSON’S DAIRY, roared past her in the street, far too close for comfort. She backed hastily to the curb but the truck was so near she could feel the rush of air from its passing, as the indignant, flushed face of the driver scowled from the cab window.
Debbie knew she had been inexcusably stupid in not paying attention to the traffic lights on this busy city thoroughfare. If the driver had not shouted — Just then she saw that the milk truck had drawn up to the curb a few yards down the street and the driver was striding toward her. He was a gangling young man in a white suit with WILSON’S DAIRY printed in green letters on the jacket. His round face was still red, his blue eyes blazed and his white cap seemed to be rising in fury above a mop of copper-colored hair.
“Sister, haven’t you ever heard of traffic lights? I honked and honked, but you kept right on coming against the red light.” He was close to her now, scanning her with curiosity. Then his tone changed to gentleness. “Gee, you’re a nurse and look at your shoes! I’m sorry. I couldn’t help hitting that puddle.”
Debbie looked down at her white oxfords and nylon hose. They were spattered with dirty water. Only her full length rain-or-shine coat had protected her clean uniform.