a passion for definite and exact knowledge.”

 

“Very right too.”

 

“Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comes to beating the subjects in

the dissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre

shape.”

 

“Beating the subjects!”

 

“Yes, to verify how far bruises may be produced after death. I saw him at it

with my own eyes.”

 

“And yet you say he is not a medical student?”

 

“No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies are. But here we are, and you

must form your own impressions about him.” As he spoke, we turned down a narrow

lane and passed through a small side-door, which opened into a wing of the great

hospital. It was familiar ground to me, and I needed no guiding as we ascended

the bleak stone staircase and made our way down the long corridor with its vista

of whitewashed wall and dun-coloured doors. Near the further end a low arched

passage branched away from it and led to the chemical laboratory.

 

This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with countless bottles.