Probably I shall build up and
get the better of my depression of mind--to a certain extent. But,
there's one thing I'm facing I haven't owned to you. You may as well know
it. I shall never be able to operate again.... Perhaps you can guess what
that means to me," he added. His voice was even, but his breathing was
slightly quickened.
Burns was silent for a time, his own heart heavy with sympathy for
Leaver. Guess what a conviction like that must mean to a man of Leaver's
early eminence in the world of distinguished operative surgery? He surely
could. It had been his almost certain knowledge that this was his
friend's real trouble which had made him say to himself with a groan, "If
it were I!" So he did not answer hastily to persist in assurance that all
would yet be well. He knew Leaver understood that sort of professional
hypnosis too thoroughly to be affected by it.
Burns got up and took a turn or two up and down the room, thinking things
out. His face was graver than patients usually saw it; there was in it,
however, a look of determination which grew, moment by moment, as he
walked. Presently he came back to the bedside and sat down again.
"Suppose you tell me all about it, Jack," said he. "You haven't done me
that honour, yet, you know. Will it be too hard on you? Just to make a
clean breast of every thought and every experience which has led you to
this point? I know I'm rather forcing myself upon you as your physician.
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