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Updated: June 23, 2025
"He's got the money," thought Adams, as the glass swing-door was opened by a flunkey as magnificent as a Lord Mayor's footman, who took the visitor's card and the card of M. Thénard and presented them to a functionary with a large pale face, who was seated at a table close to the door.
If Félix had possessed a wife, he and she might have stood for the man and woman mentioned by Thénard in his lecture. The basic man and woman in whose dim brains Determination had begun to work, sketching the vague line on either side of which lies the Right and Left of moral action. A true savage, never to be really civilized. For it is the fate of the savage that he will never become one of us.
Another view was therefore taken by the French chemist, Thenard, and it is still held by a very eminent chemist, M. Pasteur, and their view is this, that the yeast, so to speak, eats a little of the sugar, turns a little of it to its own purposes, and by so doing gives such a shape to the sugar that the rest of it breaks up into carbonic acid and alcohol.
He indicated Adams with a half laugh, and Dr. Duthil, turning in his chair, regarded anew the colossus from the States. The great, large-hewn, cast-iron visaged Adams, beside whom Thénard looked like a shrivelled monkey and Duthil like a big baby with a beard. "Good," said Duthil. "A better man than Bauchardy," said Thénard. "Much," replied Duthil.
"Operate." "You know, in every operation, however slight, there is an element of danger to life." "Life! what do I care? I insist on your operating. Not another night shall pass " "As you will," said Thénard. "And now," said Berselius, "make your preparations, and send me my secretary."
It was pitiless because it did these things, and it was terrible because it was spoken by Thénard, for he was just standing there, a little, oldish man, terribly convincing in his simplicity, absolutely without prejudice, as ready to acknowledge the soul and its attributes as to refuse them, standing there twiddling his horsehair watch-chain, and speaking from the profundity of his knowledge with, at his elbow, a huge army of facts, instances, and cases, not one of which did not support his logical deductions.
"The mind," said Thénard, "has nothing to do with time. At the Battle of the Nile, a sea captain, one of those iron-headed Englishmen, was struck on his iron head with fragment of shell. He lost his memory. Eight months after he was trephined; he awoke from the operation completing the order he was giving to his sailors when the accident cut him short " "I would be the same man.
Berselius was worse; that afternoon he had suddenly developed acute neuralgia of the right side of the head, and this had been followed almost immediately by twitching and numbness of the left arm. Thénard had been summoned and he had diagnosed pressure on the brain, or, at least, irritation from depressed bone, due to the accident.
"Who, then, was Bauchardy?" asked Adams, amused rather by the way in which the two others were discussing him. "Bauchardy?" said Duthil. "Why, he was the last man Berselius killed." "Silence," said Thénard, then turning to Adams, "Berselius is a perfectly straight man.
Then he went off to a consultation at the Hotel Bristol on a Balkan prince, whose malady, hitherto expressed by evil living, had suddenly taken an acute and terrible turn and Adams found himself alone with Dr. Duthil. "That is Thénard all over," said Duthil. "He is the high priest of modernism.
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