"It's hard to pull up at that age."
"My mother's life was spent in trying to help him. He's a dear old
chap, really."
"There is, of course, the possibility that he may get a grip on
himself."
Derry's languor left him. "Do you think there's the least hope of it?
Frankly? No platitudes?"
"We are making some rather interesting
experiments--psycho-analysis--things like that--"
He stood up. He was big and breezy. "What's the matter with you this
morning? You ought to be up and out."
Derry flushed. "Nothing--much."
The Doctor sat down again. "I'd tell most men to take a cold shower
and a two hours' tramp, but it's more than that with you--."
"It's a ease of suspended activity. I want to get into the war--"
"Why don't you?"
"I can't leave Dad. Surely you can see that."
"I don't see it. He must reap, every man must."
"But there's more than that. My mother tied me by a promise. And
people are calling me a coward--even Dad thinks I am a slacker, and I
can't say to him, 'If you were more than the half of a man I might be a
whole one.'"
"Your mother couldn't have foreseen this war.
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