He was wondering, too, if ever again he could think of anything but those words.
"The truth ?" the great surgeon had said.

"Well, the truth is--I'm sorry to tell you the truth, Mr.Henshaw, but if you will have it--you've painted the last picture you'll ever paint with your right hand, I fear.
It's a bad case.

This break, coming as it did on top of the serious injury of two or three years ago, was bad enough; but, to make matters worse, the bone was imperfectly set and wrongly treated, which could not be helped, of course, as you were miles away from skilled surgeons at the time of the injury.

We'll do the best we can, of course; but--well, you asked for the truth, you remember; so I had to give it to you.".