If it had been
almost any other man, it would have mattered less, but it seemed a matter
of a lifetime with Parkman. He could understand that better now than he
once had. To have found Ernestine and then--then to have found she was
_not_ Ernestine! But of course in the case of Ernestine that could not
be. Now if Parkman had only found an Ernestine--but then he couldn't very
well, for there was only one! Since the first of time, there had been
only one--and she was his! He fell to dreaming of how she had looked last
night in the fire-light, and almost forgot the station at which he was to
get off.
He was in very jubilant mood when they went down to Dr. Parkman's office
after the operation. It had verified some of his own conclusions; seemed
fairly to stand as an endorsement of what he held. He had never felt more
sure of himself, had never seen his way more clearly. It was a great
thing to have facts bear one out, to see made real what one had believed
to be true. He went over it all with Parkman, putting his case clearly,
convincingly, his points standing out true and unassailable; throwing
away all the irrelevant, picking out unerringly, the little kernel of
truth;--a big mind this, a mind qualified to cope with big problems.
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