He found something
sensible in every theory, and embraced none of them, claiming that the
best of all systems of medicine was to have none at all, and to stick
to facts. This Panurge of the Clinical Schools, the king of observers,
the great investigator, a great sceptic, the man of desperate
expedients, was scrutinizing the Magic Skin.
"I should very much like to be a witness of the coincidence of its
retrenchment with your wish," he said to the Marquis.
"Where is the use?" cried Brisset.
"Where is the use?" echoed Cameristus.
"Ah, you are both of the same mind," replied Maugredie.
"The contraction is perfectly simple," Brisset went on.
"It is supernatural," remarked Cameristus.
"In short," Maugredie made answer, with affected solemnity, and
handing the piece of skin to Raphael as he spoke, "the shriveling
faculty of the skin is a fact inexplicable, and yet quite natural,
which, ever since the world began, has been the despair of medicine
and of pretty women."
All Valentin's observation could discover no trace of a feeling for
his troubles in any of the three doctors. The three received every
answer in silence, scanned him unconcernedly, and interrogated him
unsympathetically. Politeness did not conceal their indifference;
whether deliberation or certainty was the cause, their words at any
rate came so seldom and so languidly, that at times Raphael thought
that their attention was wandering.
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