Читать книгу On the Brink of a Chasm: A record of plot and passion онлайн

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“It’s all right,” she said to herself. “I didn’t study under Dr. Weismann in Paris for nothing. Ha! ha! my dear Doctor Tarbot, you think I am your tool, but how do you know that I shall not turn the tables on you? Poison this boy, indeed—not I! I mean to save him, poor little fellow! I shall save him, and win you. I shall feather my own nest, and hold such a weapon against you that you will be in my power for the rest of your life. You made a mistake when you asked a woman as wise as I am to assist you.

“Can I ever forget the day when Dr. Weismann performed a similar experiment on a young man in the hospital, and then called in the most eminent physicians to examine him; didn’t they one and all pronounce him dead? You are not cleverer than Dr. Weismann, or the other great Paris savants. I am your match. You will rue the day you consulted me.”

The nurse laughed softly to herself. Meanwhile she watched the patient. The child looked no longer like a patient; he looked no longer like any living creature—the pallor of death was on his forehead. To all appearance he had ceased to breathe.