"Nonsense! Well, you are evidently badly smitten any——"
"Hush, he's coming," interrupted Min.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
There was a very learned (?) young man—a lately fledged M. D.—who, while spending a few weeks in the town, often sought my master's company. Among other things he, the young man, talked pompously and heartlessly of his love for using the knife.
"I just delight in surgery," he affirmed. "When I first went to college the sight of blood unmanned me, and I was weak enough to shrink from cutting up even a cat; but I soon cut my eye teeth, and now I don't mind anything; would like no better practice than to dissect a live human being."
As Master made no reply and the blood-thirsty young M. D. did not understand, as I do, a certain ominous silence on the former's part, he went airily on:
"I intend to make a specialty of scientific research as soon as I've earned money enough to make it possible. There is very much to be discovered yet, I am convinced. By the way, I suppose you read all the reports of our own and German vivisectionists?"
"I confess to skipping some."