Patient. I didn’t say I had any pain—now.
Dr. Gazell (soothingly). Increasing toward night? Paroxysms? Or is it steady?
Patient. I said I’d got over the pain. That has all gone. It is the weakness—the deadly weakness.
Dr. Gazell. Just so. That weakness is a most significant symptom—I think you said it was accompanied by nausea?
Patient. No, I didn’t. Not a bit.
Dr. Gazell. Just so. Dr. Carver? Here a moment? (To the patient.) I’m sure we can relieve all that. Just a little operation—a very pretty little operation—would set you right again in a week or two.
Dr. Carver (coming to the cotside of No. 21; speaks eagerly). It is such a beautiful operation! Why, I’ve known patients beg for it,—it is so beautiful.
Patient (beginning to cry). Dr. Thorne said there was no need of anything of the kind.
Dr. Gazell (stiffening). Dr. Thorne was an able man—but eccentric. His professional colleagues did not always agree with him.
Enter Dr. Thorne. (He has wasted since
his last appearance; looks outcast,
wan, and wretched; is splashed with
mud; still hatless; stands at the
lower end of the ward, gazing blindly
about.)