"Now," said the doctor calmly, when Shock and he had been left alone, "I hope there will be no more interruption. We must proceed with the trephining. Ah, beautiful, beautiful!" his quick moving, deft fingers keeping pace with his monologue.
"There now," after a few minutes' work with the trephine, "the depression is lifted. We shall soon be finished."
With supple, firm fingers he sewed the scalp, dressed the wound, and was done.
"Thank God!" said Shock, with a long breath. "Will he live?"
"It is a question now of strength and vitality. If the inflammation is not too widely extended the child may recover. Young life is very tenacious."
The doctor washed his hands, wiped his instruments, put them carefully away in their case, and sat down.
"Doctor," said Shock, "that is a great work. Even to a layman that operation seems wonderful."
Under the stimulus of his professional work the doctor's face, which but two days before had been soft and flabby, seemed to have taken on a firmer, harder appearance, and his whole manner, which had been shuffling and slovenly, had become alert and self-reliant.
"A man who can do that, doctor, can do great things."
A shadow fell on his face. The look of keen intelligence became clouded. His very frame lost its erect poise, and seemed to fall together. His professional air of jaunty cheerfulness forsook him. He huddled himself down into his chair, put his face in his hands, and shuddered.