..."
"Will I be able to have books, and papers, and work a little? I
couldn't bear the prospect of complete idleness."
"That would be all right, if you didn't work too hard."
"And could I say good-bye to some of my friends?"
Hauserman nodded and asked, "Who?"
"Well, Professor Pottgeiter...."
"He's outside now. He was inquiring about you."
"And Stanly Weill, my attorney. Not business; just to say good-bye."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor. He's not in town, now. He left almost
immediately after.... After...."
"After he found out I was crazy for sure? Where'd he go?"
"To Reno; he took the plane at five o'clock."
Weill wouldn't have believed, anyhow; no use trying to blame himself
for that. But he was as sure that he would never see Stanly Weill
alive again as he was that the next morning the sun would rise. He
nodded impassively.
"Sorry he couldn't stay. Can I see Max Pottgeiter alone?"
"Yes, of course, Professor."
Old Pottgeiter came in, his face anguished. "Ed! It isn't true," he
stammered. "I won't believe that it's true."
"What, Max?"
"That you're crazy. Nobody can make me believe that."
He put his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Confidentially, Max,
neither do I.
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