In order that he might meet any small technical objection that could be raised against his plans, Stewart asked Bob Dunbar to examine them. Dunbar gave up a morning to the task, and Stewart went over the plans with him in detail. He was rather discouraged at the number of Dunbar's running criticisms; he was dismayed at the end when the doctor said,—
"Of course it's hard for me to speak definitely—just from seeing the plans; but it seems to me, Stewart, that while the buildings will be very good to look at, they'll be pretty impracticable. You have n't made nearly enough provision for light in any of the buildings; the first requisite of a hospital nowadays is light, and your windows are too small and too few to be adequate. You ought to have double the number in the wards. Then in the General Hospital you've given the amphitheatre the wrong exposure; the amphitheatre ought always to have a north light, and it's quite a serious matter when you put it on the south side as you've done. It's not only a matter of light; there's the heat in summer to be considered; it's a very important thing."
So he went on, pointing out one defect after another, while Stewart sat by gloomily.
"Dr. Parsons, whom I consulted, never mentioned any of these things as essential," Stewart said at last.
"Oh, well. Parsons is an old-fashioned family doctor; he has very little hospital work; he's a good man, but he'd hardly be up to date in such matters."
"I've studied a good many hospitals," Stewart said, "and the interior arrangement of a number of them is much like mine."
"It's faulty, though; there are lots of hospitals that aren't fit to be hospitals, they're so inconveniently planned," declared Dunbar.
"I should think doctors and nurses could put up with a little inconvenience without great cost of life," was Stewart's sarcastic comment.
