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Updated: June 1, 2025
Max rubbed himself down with a handkerchief and took the glass from her. He was somewhat red in the face. He looked at her with a queer smile. "Confound that girl!" he said. "Have you discovered any specially beneficial properties In raspberries?" asked Sir Kersley in the tone of one seeking information. "Not yet. I'm experimenting," said Max.
Abruptly he held up a warning finger. For one instant his eyes commanded her, compelled her. Then deliberately he extracted two cigarettes, slipped one into his pocket, stuck the other between his lips. She watched him in silence. He returned the case to its owner with the slight, cynical smile she knew so well, and began to smoke. "What time is Sir Kersley Whitton going?" asked Violet. "Soon.
It's very good of you, Kersley." Max's hand lay for a moment on the great man's shoulder. "Nonsense, my dear fellow! I'm as keen as you are." Sir Kersley leaned back in his chair. "I only hope we may be successful," he said. "Is he likely to be a good patient?" "Quite the reverse, I should say." Max sounded grim. "But I expect I can manage him." Sir Kersley smiled again.
The tale you heard this morning was true every word of it. I heard it myself from Bruce Campion and also from Kersley Whitton. Kersley was engaged to marry her mother when he detected in her a tendency to madness which he afterwards discovered to be an hereditary taint in her family. It is a disease of the brain which is absolutely incurable.
"I see," said Nick. "And you are convinced that a serious development is inevitable?" "Absolutely." Max came strolling back from the window with eyes fixed and far-seeing. "It is as plain as a pike-staff to any professional man. Kersley detected it at once as I knew he would; and that was before the midnight episode in Olga's room. Yes, it's bound to come. It may be gradual.
And I don't think you will succeed. If you could have persuaded her to marry you, you might have done it. Forewarned is forearmed; you would have known how to safeguard her. But utter ignorance is no safeguard at all. I don't think she would thank you for it if she knew." Max's mouth twisted in its most cynical smile. "I wonder," he said. Sir Kersley said no more.
You're just off then?" Sir Kersley Whitton looked up with a smile to greet his partner as he entered. "Just off," said Max. He came to Sir Kersley, seated at his writing-table, and paused beside him. It was a day in April, showery, shot with fleeting gleams of sunshine that sent long golden shafts across the doctor's room. "You will bring the boy here then?" said Sir Kersley. "Yes, straight here.
It's as well he didn't attempt it in that case," said Sir Kersley. "He will stand a better chance with us. And what about Captain Ratcliffe and Olga? Will they go straight home?" "No," said, Max. He paused a moment, then said rather shortly, "I had a line from Dr. Jim. He says she won't leave Noel. He and Mrs. Ratcliffe are coming up to meet them, but he expects to go back alone."
"My dear, it's my rôle to be absurd. I am the clown in every tragedy I come across the comic relief man the buffoon in every side-show. Hence my Frontier laurels, because I kept on dancing when everyone else was dead. The world likes dancers virtuous or otherwise." Nick broke off with his elastic grimace. "If I go on, you'll think I'm trying to be clever. Sir Kersley, come and have a drink!"
All feeling seemed to be unaccountably suspended. The figure of a big man met her on the threshold. She looked at him with wide, incurious eyes, recognizing him without surprise. "You are too late," she said. He started, and bent to look at her closely. From the deep shadow behind her arose Cork's ominous growl. She turned back into the room. "May I come in?" Sir Kersley asked in his gentle voice.
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