"If I could have an operation on my
brain which would remove that particular cell in which is stored the
memory of the past ten years----"
"You will when you see her," said Leslie, "and she'll be your surgeon."
"Impossible!" he cried.
"Go find her," said Leslie. "You must to regain peace for yourself."
James Minturn returned a troubled man, but with viewpoint shifting so
imperceptibly he did not realize what was happening. On his way he decided
to visit the hospital, repugnant as the thought was to him. From afar he
was amazed at sight of the building. He knew instantly that it must have
been the leading topic of conversation among his friends purposely avoided
in his presence. Marble pillars and decorations had been freshly cleaned,
the building was snowdrift white; it shone through the branches of big
trees surrounding it like a fairy palace. At the top of the steps leading
to the entrance stood a marble group of heroic proportions that was
wonderful. It was a seated figure of Christ, but cut with the face of a
man of his station, occupation, and race, garbed in simple robe, and in
his arms, at his knees, leaning against him, a group of children: the
lean, sick and ailing, such as were carried to him for healing.
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