There is no reason on earth to pocket them, to carry them away, unless you do not want them counted, unless you do not want anyone to be able to look, later, and see what had been put into a man’s veins.

It was such a small thing, that quiet gesture of gathering up the empties and sealing them away into his own bag.

Dr.

Wallace probably did it without a second thought, a habit by then.

But I saw it, and I understood it, and it told me more plainly than any confession could have that whatever was happening in that room was not medicine.

Honest medicine has nothing to hide.