His opinions are sound, trustworthy--"
"His opinions!" cried Valentine with a bitter laugh; "what in heaven's
name do you call his opinions? The only opinions I could extract from him
to-day were solemn echoes of yours. And the man himself! I took the
measure of him before I asked him a question; and physiology is a lie if
that man is anything better than an impostor."
"His position is the answer to that."
"His position is no answer. He is not the first impostor who has attained
position, and is not likely to be the last. You must forgive me, if I
speak with some violence, Mr. Sheldon. I feel too deeply to remember the
conventionalities of my position. The dear girl yonder, hovering between
life and death, is my promised wife. As your stepdaughter she is very
dear to you, no doubt, and you are of course anxious to do your duty as
her stepfather. But she is all the world to me--my one sweet memory of
the past, my sole hope for the future. I will not trust her to the care
of Dr. Doddleson; I claim the right to choose another physician--as that
man's coadjutor, if you please. I have no wish to offend the doctor of
your choice."
"This is all sheer nonsense," said Mr. Sheldon.
"It is nonsense about which you must let me have my own way," replied
Valentine, resolutely. "My stake on this hazard is too heavy for careless
play. I shall go back to town at once and seek out a physician.
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