VERA.
[_Turning quickly._] I care nothing for him, nothing! Of course you are first. I will do anything in the world for you---- only this is so terrible! I can"t tell him.
CARLYON.
Tell him! Of course you can"t!
VERA.
Oh, not that! I did not mean that!
CARLYON.
Then what can"t you tell him?
VERA.
I can"t tell him that he"s a dying man--that he has a mortal disease of the brain.
CARLYON.
[_After a moment of silence._] There was never any one who could really stand against me! How long do you give him? [_He sits down with an air of relief._
VERA.
It may be a long time. I can"t say.
CARLYON.
I must have some idea; say what you think. Afterwards we can find some one who knows.
VERA.
I think probably he will be blind in a year, and paralysed in two years, and then----
CARLYON.
Blind in a year, paralysed in two!
VERA.
But I may be utterly wrong; I know so little and I have only had a few stolen opportunities of observing him.
CARLYON.
Have you told Rheinhardt?
VERA.
Yes, that is why I asked him here----
CARLYON.
[_Observing that she is hurt._] A dying man can be as dangerous as another. How can you stop him?
VERA.
By telling him.
CARLYON.
And he"ll spend the rest of his life in getting doctored; yes. At any rate he isn"t likely to go travelling in Bhojal. I should think he was a brave man too.
VERA.
He won"t be brave any more! Dr. Rheinhardt has told me all about it--it crushes a man, breaks his nerve, takes away all his spirit.
CARLYON.
[_Who has not been listening to her--pacing the room again._] Yes, that is evidently the plan. It is as simple as daylight. Poor fellow, he had the makings of a fine man.
VERA.
Oh, don"t pity him. I can"t do it if you pity him.
CARLYON.
You"re not going to give him his disease!
VERA.
No, but to tell him----
CARLYON.
You"ll have to tell your patients things.
VERA.
If there was any hope of curing him----
CARLYON.
So there is! There _must_ be--_some_ hope, unless you send him off to Bhojal in ignorance. Then I agree there is none. [VERA _looks at him with suspicion_.] It happens to be dangerous to me, certainly, but that doesn"t make it prudent for him.
VERA.
Father, don"t try to make little of it. I will do what you ask; but I must do it by breaking his spirit. I shall tell him suddenly, brutally--so as to crush him once for all. Oh, how I shall loathe myself! [_After a pause._] Only the last few months of his life!