“Come in here, then,” said the student, as he pulled the man into a large room where there were already three other young men, who also acted as assistants of Dr. Knox. And there now they were, in the midst of a great number of coarse tables, with one in the middle, whereon were deposited—each having its portion—masses or lumps of some matter which could not be seen by reason of all of them being covered with pieces of cloth—once white, but now dirty gray, as if they had been soiled with clammy hands for weeks or months....
“Sure, and I’m among the dead,” said the man, ... “and I have something ov that kind to——”
“Sell,” added an assistant sharply, as, in his scientific ardour, he anticipated the merchant.
“Yes.”...
“And what do you give for wun?” he answered, as he sidled up to the ear of the young anatomist who had been speaking to him.
“Sometimes as high as £10.”...
“And wouldn’t you give a pound more for a fresh one?” said he, with that intoxication of hope which sometimes makes a beggar play with a new-born fortune.
“Sometimes more and sometimes less,” replied the other; “but ‘the thing’ must always be seen.”
“And by my sowl it is a good thing, and worth the money any how.”
“Where is it?”