“That’s it, my dear sir. I want, both for the sake of an old friend and for my reputation, to make my operation perfectly successful. Cornel here will carry out my instructions to the letter. She will help me too in the operation.”
“But an operation is not fit—not the place for a young girl.”
“Why not?” said Cornel, smiling.
“It is unsexing you, my child.”
“Unsexing me, when I come to help to calm your pain, to nurse you back to health and strength! A woman never unsexes herself in proving a help to those who suffer. Besides, I have often helped my brother before.”
Meanwhile the surgeon had busied himself at a table upon which he had placed a mahogany case. He had had his back to them, but now turned and advanced to the bed, with a little silver implement in his hand.
“Now, my dear sir, a little manly fortitude and patience, and you may believe me when I tell you that there is nothing to fear.”
“Who is afraid?” said the old man sharply. “But what’s that?”
“A little apparatus for injecting an anaesthetic.”
“I said I wouldn’t have anything of the kind,” cried the patient angrily. “I can and will bear it.”