“And the malformation is incurable? The hand will remain stunted?”
Dr. Sammet hesitated; he looked kindly at the Grand Duke.
“It will never be quite normal, certainly not,” he said cautiously. “But the stunted hand will grow a little larger than it is at present, oh yes, it assuredly will …”
“Will he be able to use it? For instance … to hold his reins or to make gestures, like any one else?…”
“Use it … a little…. Perhaps not much. And he's got his right hand, that's all right.”
“Will it be very obvious?” asked the Grand Duke, and scanned Dr. Sammet's face earnestly. “Very noticeable? Will it detract much from his general appearance, think you?”
“Many people,” answered Dr. Sammet evasively, “live and work under greater disadvantages. Yes.”
The Grand Duke turned away, and walked once up and down the room. Dr. Sammet deferentially made way for him, and withdrew towards the door. At last the Grand Duke resumed his position at the writing-table and said: “I have now heard what I wanted to know, doctor; I thank you for your report. You understand your business, no doubt about that. Why do you live in Grimmburg? Why do you not practise in the capital?”
“I am still young, Royal Highness, and before I devote myself to practising as a specialist in the capital I should like a few years of really varied practice, of general experience and research. A country town like Grimmburg affords the best opportunity of that. Yes.”
“Very sound, very admirable of you. In what do you propose to specialise later on?”