“There are some things that are only moral in an operating room,” he told Penny. “At no other time could I tell a person to lie down on a table and allow me to knock them unconscious so I can remove their clothing and cut into their body.” “Nor would you want to, I hope.” A wry smile curled the corner of Penny’s mouth. “Indeed, I would not.” He lifted a wicked-looking handsaw and its sharp, serrated teeth glinted beneath the lamp that hung above the table. “Remember, the mandate to do no harm often requires a kind of harm never allowed outside a room such as this.”
