“Not scandal, I trust, Jack!”
“They say that you're a surgeon; that you operated on Dr. Wilson and saved his life. They say that you're the king pin where you came from.” He eyed K. wistfully. “I know it's a damn lie, but if it's true—”
“I used to be a surgeon. As a matter of fact I operated on Dr. Wilson to-day. I—I am rather apologetic, Jack, because I didn't explain to you sooner. For—various reasons—I gave up that—that line of business. To-day they rather forced my hand.”
“Don't you think you could do something for me, sir?”
When K. did not reply at once, he launched into an explanation.
“I've been lying here a good while. I didn't say much because I knew I'd have to take a chance. Either I'd pull through or I wouldn't, and the odds were—well, I didn't say much. The old lady's had a lot of trouble. But now, with THIS under my pillow for her, I've got a right to ask. I'll take a chance, if you will.”
“It's only a chance, Jack.”
“I know that. But lie here and watch these soaks off the street. Old, a lot of them, and gettin' well to go out and starve, and—My God! Mr. Le Moyne, they can walk, and I can't.”
K. drew a long breath. He had started, and now he must go on. Faith in himself or no faith, he must go on. Life, that had loosed its hold on him for a time, had found him again.
“I'll go over you carefully to-morrow, Jack. I'll tell you your chances honestly.”