"Come!" he said. "You are a man, and it is a man we want. You are
better than me, better than my friend John." Arthur looked bewildered,
and the Professor went on by explaining in a kindly way.
"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must
have or die. My friend John and I have consulted, and we are about to
perform what we call transfusion of blood, to transfer from full veins
of one to the empty veins which pine for him. John was to give his
blood, as he is the more young and strong than me."--Here Arthur took
my hand and wrung it hard in silence.--"But now you are here, you are
more good than us, old or young, who toil much in the world of
thought. Our nerves are not so calm and our blood so bright than
yours!"
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