"Certainly, that is--I hope so."
"If anyone in Holland can, mynheer," murmured the assistant with
honest bluntness, "it is yourself."
The doctor looked displeased, growled out a tender request for
the student to talk less, and beckoned Hans to draw near.
This strange man had a great horror of speaking to women,
especially on surgical matters. "One can never tell," he said,
"what moment the creatures will scream or faint." Therefore he
explained Raff Brinker's case to Hans and told him what he
believed should be done to save the patient.
Hans listened attentively, growing red and pale by turns and
throwing quick, anxious glances toward the bed.
"It may KILL the father--did you say, mynheer?" he exclaimed at
last in a trembling whisper.
"It may, my boy. But I have a strong belief that it will cure
and not kill. Ah! If boys were not such dunces, I could lay the
whole matter before you, but it would be of no use."
Hans looked blank at this compliment.
"It would be of no use," repeated Dr. Boekman indignantly. "A
great operation is proposed, but one might as well do it with a
hatchet. The only question asked is, 'Will it kill?'"
"The question is EVERYTHING to us, mynheer," said Hans with
tearful dignity.
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