Page 361 - tender-is-the-night

‘The man can take nothing except liquids—I give him
three days, or at most, a week.’
‘Does his elder daughter, Miss Warren, know his condi-
tion?’
‘By his own wish no one knows except the man-servant.
It was only this morning I felt I had to tell him—he took it
excitedly, although he has been in a very religious and re-
signed mood from the beginning of his illness.’
Dick considered: ‘Well—‘ he decided slowly, ‘in any case
I’ll take care of the family angle. But I imagine they would
want a consultation.’
‘As you like.’
‘I know I speak for them when I ask you to call in one of
the bestknown medicine men around the lake—Herbrugge,
from Geneva.’
‘I was thinking of Herbrugge.’
‘Meanwhile I’m here for a day at least and I’ll keep in
touch with you.’
That evening Dick went to Señor Pardo y Cuidad Real
and they talked.
‘We have large estates in Chili—‘ said the old man. ‘My
son could well be taking care of them. Or I can get him in
any one of a dozen enterprises in Paris—‘ He shook his
head and paced across the windows against a spring rain
so cheerful that it didn’t even drive the swans to cover, ‘My
only son! Can’t you take him with you?’
The Spaniard knelt suddenly at Dick’s feet.
‘Can’t you cure my only son? I believe in you—you can
take him with you, cure him.’

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