no physician in the city could diagnose her
case; none knew what she was suffering from. Jason Philip was angry at
his wife, at her illness, at the whole medical profession, and at the
growing confusion and disorder in his affairs.

As they crossed AEgydius Place he cast a glance of unbounded hatred at
the house in which Daniel and Gertrude lived. But he did not say
anything; he merely pinched his lips and hung his head. In so doing he
noticed the grease spot on his coat, and emitted a vexed growl. "I will
go along with you, Herr Apothecary, and get a bottle of benzine," he
said, turning to his companion. In his voice there was a noticeable
trace of that reluctant and unwilling humility which the poor display in
the presence of the rich.

"Good, good," he said, "come right along." He blew the air before him;
for he was warm. "Greetings, greetings," he exclaimed, and waved his
hand, "what are you doing here?"

It was Herr Carovius to whom he spoke. Herr Carovius was just then
standing by the fountain of the Goose Man, rapt in the sort of
reflection that was peculiar to him.

"At your service, gentlemen," he said.

"I see there are natives who study our native art," remarked the
apothecary with an ironical smile, and stopped. Jason Philip likewise
stopped, and looked in a dazed, distraught way at the bronze man with
the two geese. Some boys were playing ball close by the fountain. When
they saw the three men looking at it, they quit playing, came up, and
looked at the fountain and the men and grinned as if there were
something new to be seen.

"We have no idea what riches we possess," said Herr Carovius.

"Quite right, quite right," nodded the apothecary.

"I have just been trying to think what meaning this group may have,"
continued Herr Carovius, "there is undeniably a musical motif in it."

"A musical motif?" murmured Jason Philip, to whom the very term music
conveyed the idea of something unpleasant.

"Yes, but you have got to understand it," said Herr Carovius rather
jauntily. With that he seized the ear of a small boy who had ventured
right up to his trousers' legs; the boy screamed.

After casting an angry look at the monument, Jason Philip broke out in
sudden and hearty laughter. "Now I understand," he stammered as he
coughed, "you are a fox, a sly old dodger."

"What do you mean, gentlemen?" asked the apothecary, who had become
somewhat anxious, for he feared that this outburst of hilarity was
dir