“I have done so,” said Gilbert reluctantly.
“And what did he say?”
“In brief—as you say—leave well enough alone. Apart from his prejudice against new-fangled surgery, I’m afraid he looks at the case from your point of view—don’t do it, for Leslie’s sake.”
“There now,” cried Anne triumphantly. “I do think, Gilbert, that you ought to abide by the judgment of a man nearly eighty, who has seen a great deal and saved scores of lives himself—surely his opinion ought to weigh more than a mere boy’s.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t laugh. It’s too serious.”
“That’s just my point. It is serious. Here is a man who is a helpless burden. He may be restored to reason and usefulness—”
“He was so very useful before,” interjected Anne witheringly.
“He may be given a chance to make good and redeem the past. His wife doesn’t know this. I do. It is therefore my duty to tell her that there is such a possibility. That, boiled down, is my decision.”
“Don’t say ‘decision’ yet, Gilbert. Consult somebody else. Ask Captain Jim what he thinks about it.”
“Very well. But I’ll not promise to abide by his opinion, Anne.
This is something a man must decide for himself. My conscience would never be easy if I kept silent on the subject.”
“Oh, your conscience!” moaned Anne. “I suppose
