"Do you think it—possible?"
It was obvious that great tact was required in framing an answer to such a question.
"I shouldn't like to say. It's possible, perhaps; but it seems extremely improbable. These doctors and scientists are always experimenting on the human body. And yet—are we any better than we were a thousand years ago?"
It was not clear whether he had caught the gist of my reply, and for a long time he remained silent and thoughtful.
"I've been readin' in The Encyclopædia Britannica about those—glands," he said, a little sheepishly. "It's a queer thing that I've never noticed them before. That newspaper article isn't as foolish as you think, George."
"You misunderstood me, sir. What I said was . . ."
"You're too sceptical, my boy!"
It seemed strange to hear the old accusing the young of scepticism, but I let it pass.
"One reads of so many new ideas nowadays," I remarked, weakly.
"That's true. But there have been some big things done since I was a lad. I remember the first railway at home; the bicycle, the pneumatic tire, and then—the first motor car. Now there's the aeroplane. Flying! That's wonderful, George!"