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"
I
must
ask
you
to
leave
.
"
"
You
ASK
me
!
We
ARE
leaving
!
"
"
If
you
could
be
a
little
temperate
we
could
tell
you
the
results
of
the
treatment
to
date
.
Naturally
,
since
you
feel
as
you
do
,
we
would
not
want
your
son
as
a
patient
—
"
"
You
dare
to
use
the
word
temperate
to
me
?
"
Dick
called
to
Doctor
Ladislau
and
as
he
approached
,
said
:
"
Will
you
represent
us
in
saying
good
-
by
to
the
patient
and
to
his
family
?
"
He
bowed
slightly
to
Morris
and
went
into
his
office
,
and
stood
rigid
for
a
moment
just
inside
the
door
.
He
watched
until
they
drove
away
,
the
gross
parents
,
the
bland
,
degenerate
offspring
:
it
was
easy
to
prophesy
the
family
’
s
swing
around
Europe
,
bullying
their
betters
with
hard
ignorance
and
hard
money
.
But
what
absorbed
Dick
after
the
disappearance
of
the
caravan
was
the
question
as
to
what
extent
he
had
provoked
this
.
He
drank
claret
with
each
meal
,
took
a
nightcap
,
generally
in
the
form
of
hot
rum
,
and
sometimes
he
tippled
with
gin
in
the
afternoons
—
gin
was
the
most
difficult
to
detect
on
the
breath
.
He
was
averaging
a
half
-
pint
of
alcohol
a
day
,
too
much
for
his
system
to
burn
up
.
Dismissing
a
tendency
to
justify
himself
,
he
sat
down
at
his
desk
and
wrote
out
,
like
a
prescription
,
a
régime
that
would
cut
his
liquor
in
half
.
Doctors
,
chauffeurs
,
and
Protestant
clergymen
could
never
smell
of
liquor
,
as
could
painters
,
brokers
,
cavalry
leaders
;
Dick
blamed
himself
only
for
indiscretion
.
But
the
matter
was
by
no
means
clarified
half
an
hour
later
when
Franz
,
revivified
by
an
Alpine
fortnight
,
rolled
up
the
drive
,
so
eager
to
resume
work
that
he
was
plunged
in
it
before
he
reached
his
office
.
Dick
met
him
there
.
"
How
was
Mount
Everest
?
"
"
We
could
very
well
have
done
Mount
Everest
the
rate
we
were
doing
.
We
thought
of
it
.
How
goes
it
all
?
How
is
my
Kaethe
,
how
is
your
Nicole
?
"
