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XV

Meals with the patients were a chore he approached
with apathy. The gathering, which of course did not include
residents at the Eglantine or the Beeches, was convention-
al enough at first sight, but over it brooded always a heavy
melancholy. Such doctors as were present kept up a con-
versation but most of the patients, as if exhausted by their
morning’s endeavor, or depressed by the company, spoke
little, and ate looking into their plates.
Luncheon over, Dick returned to his villa. Nicole was in
the salon wearing a strange expression.
‘Read that,’ she said.
He opened the letter. It was from a woman recently dis-
charged, though with skepticism on the part of the faculty.
It accused him in no uncertain terms of having seduced her
daughter, who had been at her mother’s side during the cru-
cial stage of the illness. It presumed that Mrs. Diver would
be glad to have this information and learn what her hus-
band was ‘really like.’
Dick read the letter again. Couched in clear and concise
English he yet recognized it as the letter of a maniac. Upon
a single occasion he had let the girl, a flirtatious little bru-
nette, ride into Zurich with him, upon her request, and in
the evening had brought her back to the clinic. In an idle,
almost indulgent way, he kissed her. Later, she tried to carry

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