"
"Why, Dr. Burns," said she, in astonishment, "it should go through. It is
a critical operation, of course, but the boy seems in very fair shape for
it, and Dr. Leaver has done it before. Dr. Leaver is quite well now--"
"I know, I know. Feel of that!"
He touched her hand with his own, which was icy cold. She started, and
looked anxiously at him.
"Doctor, you can't be well! This isn't you--to be so--nervous! Why, think
of all the operations you've done, and never a sign of minding. And this
isn't even your responsibility--it's Dr. Leaver's."
"That's right, scold me," said he, trying to laugh. "It's what I need.
I'm showing the white feather, a hatful of them. But you're mistaken
about one thing. It _is_ my responsibility, every detail of it. Don't
forget that. If the case goes wrong, it's my fault, not Dr. Leaver's."
Then he walked away, leaving Miss Mathewson utterly dumbfounded. She
understood perfectly that Dr. John Leaver had suffered a severe breakdown
from overwork, and that this was his first test since his recovery. But
she knew nothing of the peculiar circumstances of his last appearance in
an operating-room, and could therefore have no possible notion of the
crisis this morning's work was to be to him. She did know enough,
however, to be deeply interested in the outcome, and she watched the
Green Imp flying down the road toward home with the sense that when it
returned it would bear two surgeons for whom she must do the best work
of support in her life.
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