Cooper jammed the phone slips into his jacket pocket and fretted around the room. "I tried to warn you. At that crazy cocktail party Thursday. If I hadn't been so paralyzed myself I might have—Christ! What a mess!"
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know. He had to call in the police, yet."
"Will they find out?"
"I don't know."
"What would they do if they did?"
"Send him down to City Hospital for observation. Maybe worse. I—Jesus! What a mess!"
"You mean an asylum?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll have to keep it from the police too. We'd better destroy this letter."