The Cure had thought it all over, and he had wholly changed his mind since that first talk with his brother. “To save a mind, Marcel!” he said.
“Then to save a soul?” suggested the surgeon. “Would he thank me?”
“It is our duty to save him.”
“Body and mind and soul, eh? And if I look after the body and the mind?”
“His soul is in God’s hands, Marcel.”
“But will he thank me? How can you tell what sorrows, what troubles, he has had? What struggles, temptations, sins? He has none now, of any sort; not a stain, physical or moral.”
“That is not life, Marcel.”
“Well, well, you have changed. This morning it was I who would, and you hesitated.”
“I see differently now, Marcel.”
The surgeon put a hand playfully on his brother’s shoulder.