Chapter Thirty-Eight
In the principal treatment room, a large chamber behind the director’s office, Ferrand was business-like, cheerful, and energetic. Patient 232 had been strapped to a chair. He was indifferent as usual.
“The session with Madame Mangin was disastrous, old chap,” Ferrand told the patient. “We’ll have to take more energetic measures in order to cure you. I suggest the following procedure. I will induce a fever in you via an injection of two millilitres of essence of turpentine. This will lead to an inflammatory reaction in the form of a huge abscess which I will lance when it’s ripe, thus allowing your illness to come out.”
Denis stood close by and kept a keen watch on the patient, gauging his reaction by the slightest body-language.
He couldn’t detect anger, fear or d
