on a small black marble tablet. His specialty
needed no proclaiming.

Riviere found the great surgeon curiously uncouth in appearance. His
brown, grey-streaked beard was longer than customary and ragged in
outline; his eyebrows projected like a sea-captain's; his almost bald
head seemed to be stretched tight over a framework of knobs and bumps;
his clothes were baggy and shapeless. But all these unessentials faded
away from sight when Dr Hegelmann spoke. His voice was wonderfully
compelling--a voice tuned to a sympathy all-embracing. His voice could
make even German sound musical. And his hands were the hands of a
musician.

Before bringing Elaine into the consulting-room, Riviere explained the
facts of the vitriol outrage, gave into his hands the letter of advice
from the doctor at Nimes, and then broached the subject of payment. They
spoke in German, because Dr Hegelmann had steadfastly refused to learn
any language beyond his own. All his energies of learning had been
focused on his one specialty.

"I want to explain," said Riviere, "that Frauelein Verney is not
well-to-do. She is, I believe, practically dependent on her profession."

"Then we shall adjust the scale of payment to whatever she can afford,"
answered the doctor readily. "I value my rich patients only because they
can pay me for my poorer patients."

"Many thanks. But that was not quite my meaning. I want to ask you to
charge her at the lowest rate, and allow me to make up the difference."

"Without letting her know it."

"Precisely."

"That shall be as you wish. I appreciate your motives." His voice was
full of sympathy, giving a treble value to the most ordinary words.
"That is the action of a true friend."

Riviere brought Elaine into the consulting-room, and left her in the
great specialist's gentle hands. An assistant surgeon was there to act
as interpreter.

The verdict came quickly. For a week Elaine was to be in the surgical
home receiving preliminary treatment, and then Dr Hegelmann was to
operate on her right eye. For the left eye there was no hope.

During the week of waiting, Riviere came twice a day to Elaine's
bedside, to chat and read to her.

One day he told her that he had arranged for the use of a bench at a
private biological laboratory at Wiesbaden belonging to one of the
medical specialists.

"That will enable me to begin my research while you're recovering from
the operation. You'll have no need to think that you m