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K. M. CAPEK
515

Doctor.—Please be seated and calm yourself, or things may go worse. Don’t go a step from here, unless you wish to kill the lady.

Burris.—For God’s sake, is she so bad as that?

Doctor.—Not so bad if she is not excited. Moreover, it is quite possible that you are worse than she is. I should not have mentioned to you this ball yet, if it had not seemed necessary to convince you. Now we have to consider that we havea lesion in the back, and that it may be more important than it feels. Qh, not deep, to be sure—the thing was on the very surface—right under the skin, soto speak. It stuck out like a raisin from a bun, as it were. Had I struck you on the chest with the flat of my hand last night it might have popped out.

Burris.—Near the back bone under the rib, they said it was lodged—somewhere beneath the sternum.

Doctor.—That was a year ago. Since that time nature has wrought wonders. You must have ridden horseback quite a lot lately?

Burris.—Everyday since spring.

Doctor.—That’s it! Nature helped herself. But be careful, my lord, careful, I say! Be easy on yourself, and easy on others. I tell you right here, it might have gone much worse over on the other side.

Burris.—For the love of God . . .

Doctor.—Tst, tst, tst! No excitement! Neither here nor there, and all will be well in time. Promise?

Burris.—Gladly! I can almost believe that all will be well again. I promise all you think is advisable. I shall lie curled up in my little hole like a badger, until the sun shines again until it comes to look for me here of its own accord.

Doctor.—Fine! Well said! Only a bit too talkative. A trifle less conversation, and I hope I shall be able to bring you the best of news right soon. Now good-bye. It will soon be seven. I must think a little of my patients in town, and a little also of myself. I must find a moment to snatch a little nap. Till this evening, then. No, no, no, keep your seat! Now nicely to bed, and ice. (Goes out.)

(For a long time Burris sits as in a dream. Then with a joyful start he takes the bullet from the washstand. He rises, his face beaming. He weighs it in his hand, seems amazed, and loses himself in thought. He crooks his back slowly to test the wound, then stratghtens quickly with a twitch of pain. He places the bullet on