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The Scent of Chlorine in Ward One
Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis stood beside the stone basin in the corridor of Ward One, his hands stinging from the harsh chlorinated lime solution. Across the polished floor, Professor Klein approached the bedside of a young mother whose fever had begun to spike. Klein had just come directly from the autopsy theatre, his dark frock coat still carrying the distinct, heavy odour of mortality. In his bare hands, he held a metal probe.
"Herr Professor, you ought to wash before you touch her," Ignaz said, his voice quiet but resonant enough to halt the attendants.
Klein froze, turning slowly with the haughty disbelief of a man unaccustomed to contradiction. "You dare question my preparation, Doctor Semmelweis? A gentleman of the faculty carries no contamination. You ought not to embarrass yourself with such unscientific superstition."