'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--and then the
end?'
Fowler thought. 'We are not sure enough yet to do things like that,' he
said.
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