"They would be mistaken, father."
I stroked my chin in order to bridle my tongue. "How old are you, Winona?" I asked.
"Just eighteen, father."
"You have never studied medicine, I believe?"
"No."
"Nor had any special advantages or opportunities to investigate the nature of disease?"
"Only through Mrs. Titus."
"Precisely. And yet you are willing to call yourself wiser than the men who have devoted their lives to its study—the physicians of London, Paris, Berlin, and Vienna, to say nothing of those of New York and Boston."
A faint flush overspread Winona's face. "The doctors have been mistaken many times before, father. You remember Harvey and the circulation of the blood. The doctors laughed at him at first."
"But Harvey was a trained student of medicine; you are a school-girl."