nd
fatigue, may take very rapid and unexpected turns."

Sir Richmond, cheek on pillow, seemed to assent.

"I think if you want to be sure that Lady Hardy sees you again--... If
you don't want to take risks about that--... One never knows in these
cases. Probably there is a night train."

Sir Richmond manifested no surprise at the warning. But he stuck to his
point. His voice was faint but firm. "Couldn't make up anything to say
to her. Anything she'd like."

Dr. Martineau rested on that for a little while. Then he said: "If there
is anyone else?"

"Not possible," said Sir Richmond, with his eyes on the ceiling.

"But to see?"

Sir Richmond turned his head to Dr. Martineau. His face puckered like
a peevish child's. "They'd want things said to them...Things to
remember...I CAN'T. I'm tired out."

"Don't trouble," whispered Dr. Martineau, suddenly remorseful.

But Sir Richmond was also remorseful. "Give them my love," he said.
"Best love...Old Martin. Love."

Dr. Martineau was turning away when Sir Richmond spoke again in a
whisper. "Best love...Poor at the best...." He dozed for a time. Then he
made a great effort. "I can't see them, Martineau, until I've something
to say. It's like that. Perhaps I shall think of some kind things to
say--after a sleep. But if they came now...I'd say something wrong.
Be cross perhaps. Hurt someone. I've hurt so many. People
exaggerate...People exaggerate--importance these occasions."

"Yes, yes," whispered Dr. Martineau. "I quite understand."

Section 4

For a time Sir Richmond dozed. Then he stirred and muttered. "Second
rate... Poor at the best... Love... Work. All..."

"It had been splendid work," said Dr. Martineau, and was not sure that
Sir Richmond heard.

"Those last few days... lost my grip... Always lose my damned grip.

"Ragged them.... Put their backs up....Silly....

"Never.... Never done anything--WELL....

"It's done. Done. Well or ill....

"Done."

His voice sank to the faintest whisper. "Done for ever and ever... and
ever... and ever."

Again he seemed to doze.

Dr. Martineau stood up softly. Something beyond reason told him that
this was certainly a dying man. He was reluctant to go and he had an
absurd desire that someone, someone for whom Sir Richmond cared, should
come and say good-bye to him, and for Sir Richmond to say good-bye to
someone. He hated this lonely launching from the shores of life of
one who had sought intimacy so persistentl