"Yes; but-" There was a moment's silence; then, with an indrawing of his breath, the doctor's soul seemed to come back from a long journey. "I think I know what is the matter." The doctor was looking at Susan, now, not through her. "If it's what I think it is, it's a very rare disease, one we do not often find."
"But could you—can you—is it possible to—to cure it?"
"We can operate—yes; but it's six to half a dozen whether it's successful or not. They've just about broken even so far—the cases I've known about. But they've been interesting, most interesting." The doctor was far away again.
"But there's a chance; and if there is a chance I'd want to take it," cried Susan. "Wouldn't you?"
There was no answer.
Susan hesitated, threw a hurried glance into the doctor's preoccupied face, then hurried on again feverishly.
"Doctor, there's somethin' I've got to—to speak to you about before you see Mr. Burton. It—it—it'll cost an awful lot, I s'pose."
There was no answer.
Susan cleared her throat.
"It—it'll cost an awful lot, won't it, doctor?" she asked in a louder voice.