No two cases were exactly alike and it was interesting, to the verge of fascination, to watch the results of various treatments of divers wounds and afflictions.
The girls often congratulated themselves on having secured so efficient a surgeon as Doctor Gys, who gloried in his work, and whose judgment, based on practical experience, was comprehensive and unfailing.

The man's horribly contorted features had now become so familiar to the girls that they seldom noticed them--unless a cry of fear from some newly arrived and unnerved patient reminded them that the doctor was exceedingly repulsive to strangers.
No one recognized this grotesque hideousness more than Doctor Gys himself.

When one poor Frenchman died under the operating knife, staring with horror into the uncanny face the surgeon bent over him, Beth was almost sure the fright had hastened his end.

She said to Gys that evening, when they met on deck, "Wouldn't it be wise for you to wear a mask in the operating room ?" He considered the suggestion a moment, a deep flush spreading over his face; then he nodded gravely.
"It may be an excellent idea," he agreed.

"Once, a couple of years ago, I proposed wearing a mask wherever I went, but my friends assured me the effect would be so marked that it would attract to me an embarrassing amount of attention.