Galt's heart sank like a plummet, for the child's lips moved, but no sound issued. The little fellow turned his face away as he began to undress. He removed the flowing necktie, but his little fingers could not unfasten the stiff linen collar.
“Help him, Kenneth,” Dearing said. “My hands are full.”
Galt obeyed, his fingers coming into contact with the cold chin of the child and the soft flesh of his neck. He felt like snatching the boy from the damnable spot, as a mother might her young from the claws of a wild beast. Yet, outwardly calm, he drew the sleeves of the child's blouse off and laid it on a chair.
“Now we are ready for you, young man,” Dearing said, lightly. “I see you are not afraid I'll hurt you.”
“No, I know it won't hurt,” Lionel said, “but—”
“Don't you begin butting me,” Dearing laughed. “You are not a goat like the one that butted Grover Weston heels over head the other day.”
“If I shouldn't wake up—I mean if I really shouldn't, you know,” Lionel finished, with a faint effort to smile at the doctor's jest, “won't you please not tell my mother too quick? She gets frightened so easily, and, you see, if I didn't wake up—if I never woke again—”
“Ah, come off!” Dearing laughed, as he turned to his assistant. “Doctor, this kid hints that we don't know our business.”
“But if I didn't wake, if I didn't!” Lionel insisted, “you'd not scare her, would you? And—and”—his lower lip quivered—“wouldn't you tell her that I wasn't a bit afraid, and that I didn't cry, and—wait! wait! Won't you tell her that it didn't hurt a single bit, not even a little teensy bit?”
“Yes, yes,” Dearing said, and, considerably taken aback, he stared at Galt rather than at the insistent speaker. “I'll tell her you are the best boy in the world—the best, the bravest, and the sweetest. And God knows I'll mean it,” he finished, in a lower tone to Galt. “I've seen thousands of kids, Kenneth, but this one gets nearer me than all the rest put together. I swear I am almost tempted to throw the darn job up. But, you see, it has to be done. Doctor,” turning to his assistant, “put him on the table, and I'll tickle his nose and make him laugh. We'll make him have the funniest dreams he ever had.”