y or experimental
research. They wore a common uniform of white and ate at long tables
together, but the patients lived in an upper part of the buildings, and
were cared for by nurses and skilled attendants....

The first man to greet Karenin was Ciana, the scientific director of the
institution. Beside him was Rachel Borken, the chief organiser. 'You are
tired?' she asked, and old Karenin shook his head.

'Cramped,' he said. 'I have wanted to visit such a place as this.'

He spoke as if he had no other business with them.

There was a little pause.

'How many scientific people have you got here now?' he asked.

'Just three hundred and ninety-two,' said Rachel Borken.

'And the patients and attendants and so on?'

'Two thousand and thirty.'

'I shall be a patient,' said Karenin. 'I shall have to be a patient. But
I should like to see things first. Presently I will be a patient.'

'You will come to my rooms?' suggested Ciana.

'And then I must talk to this doctor of yours,' said Karenin. 'But I
would like to see a bit of this place and talk to some of your people
before it comes to that.'

He winced and moved forward.

'I have left most of my work in order,' he said.

'You have been working hard up to now?' asked Rachel Borken.

'Yes. And now I have nothing more to do--and it seems strange.... And
it's a bother, this illness and having to come down to oneself. This
doorway and the row of windows is well done; the gray granite and just
the line of gold, and then those mountains beyond through that arch.
It's very well done....'

Section 2

Karenin lay on the bed with a soft white rug about him, and Fowler, who
was to be his surgeon sat on the edge of the bed and talked to him.
An assistant was seated quietly in the shadow behind the bed. The
examination had been made, and Karenin knew what was before him. He was
tired but serene.

'So I shall die,' he said, 'unless you operate?'

Fowler assented. 'And then,' said Karenin, smiling, 'probably I shall
die.'

'Not certainly.'

'Even if I do not die; shall I be able to work?'

'There is just a chance....'

'So firstly I shall probably die, and if I do not, then perhaps I shall
be a useless invalid?'

'I think if you live, you may be able to go on--as you do now.'

'Well, then, I suppose I must take the risk of it. Yet couldn't
you, Fowler, couldn't you drug me and patch me instead of all
this--vivisection? A few days of drugged and active life-