ionable for one thing, and for another, it wouldn't
suit my style. I'm not interested in people. I'm interested in their
diseases. They know it, and rather like it." A touch of chill scorn
showed itself for a moment in his face. "They're frightened of me. I'm
as good as an electric shock to their lethargic, overfed carcasses. They
can't get over a young man with his way to make who wipes his boots on
them. They have to come back for more."

Cosgrave gave his little toneless laugh.

"I wish to God you'd frighten me. You know, when I felt how rotten I was
I thought of you. You always bucked me up--I believe I had a fool idea
that I'd find you in some scrubby suburban practice. Shows the bugs must
have got into my brain too, doesn't it? Now I suppose I'll have to ask
you to reduce your fees."

"I'll let you down easy. Say, a guinea a consultation!"

"I could manage that--if you don't want to consult too often. I've got
my bit saved. Not much to squander on out there, except whisky, and I
never took to that. Besides--my father's dead. He didn't mean to leave
me his money--you know how he loathed me--but there was a mix-up over the
will that was to cut me out--not properly witnessed or something.
Anyhow, I came out into a few thousand. Rather a joke on the old man,
wasn't it?"

"One might almost hope for another life if one were sure he were grinding
his teeth over it."

A faint perplexity flickered across the sallow face.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't seem to bear him any particular grudge now.
Perhaps it would be better if I could. When one's young one judges very
harshly. Parents and kids don't understand each other--not really--and
don't always love each other either, if the truth were known. Why should
they? The old man and I were like strangers tied to one another by the
leg. I used to think if I could pay him back for all the beastly times
he gave me I'd die happy. But I don't feel like that now. I expect he
was pretty miserable himself. There's too much of that sort of thing for
us to wish it on to one another."

"You're very tolerant," Stonehouse said. "I'm not. But then I haven't
inherited anything." He stopped abruptly and his manner hardened. But
Cosgrave did not pursue the subject. His interest had suddenly slumped
into what was evidently an habitual apathy, and only when they had paid
their bill and drifted out into the street did he revert for a moment to
the past.

"An