Through the corner of my eye I saw Gran'pa fastening his braces in a quiet, contemplative manner—apparently oblivious of the fact that his possibilities were being discussed in such astounding detail. I also saw that he was having some little difficulty with his boot-laces and his collar, muttering to himself the while. No doubt the stress of the last half-hour had made him a trifle shaky. But he bore up bravely.
So did I. And then at last, I realized that Dr. Croft had finished.
My poor, numbed brain tried to grapple with this sudden influx of new knowledge. In my supreme ignorance I had hitherto looked on the body as just a fairly simple contrivance of beef, bone, blood and brain, with a digestive apparatus for turning Foods into Human Being. Instead of that, we appeared to be one conglomeration of complicated and mysterious glands. All else was merely subsidiary.
As a little child speaks to its teacher, I said:
"How many of these do you propose grafting into Gran'pa?"
"The thyroids only. We will see how these work first."
"Do you agree, Gran'pa?" I shouted.
"I leave myself entirely in Dr. Croft's hands," replied Gran'pa, doing up the last of his buttons.
"Very well," I said, turning to the doctor again. "We'll have just the two thyroids to begin with; and I'll see that he is round here by ten o'clock in the morning. Good-by!"
We escaped to the open air once more, Gran'pa linking his arm through mine, as if in dire need of comfort.