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Maugham, W. Somerset (William Somerset), 1874-1965

"Of Human Bondage"


He took the book, open at a diagram of the dissected part, and looked at
what they had to find.
"You're rather a dab at this," said Philip.
"Oh, I've done a good deal of dissecting before, animals, you know, for
the Pre Sci."
There was a certain amount of conversation over the dissecting-table,
partly about the work, partly about the prospects of the football season,
the demonstrators, and the lectures. Philip felt himself a great deal
older than the others. They were raw schoolboys. But age is a matter of
knowledge rather than of years; and Newson, the active young man who was
dissecting with him, was very much at home with his subject. He was
perhaps not sorry to show off, and he explained very fully to Philip what
he was about. Philip, notwithstanding his hidden stores of wisdom,
listened meekly. Then Philip took up the scalpel and the tweezers and
began working while the other looked on.
"Ripping to have him so thin," said Newson, wiping his hands. "The
blighter can't have had anything to eat for a month."
"I wonder what he died of," murmured Philip.
"Oh, I don't know, any old thing, starvation chiefly, I suppose.... I say,
look out, don't cut that artery."
"It's all very fine to say, don't cut that artery," remarked one of the
men working on the opposite leg. "Silly old fool's got an artery in the
wrong place.


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