“Absolutely sure.”
“They are not in your rank in life, you know.”
“They are my friends, and I owe them more than I can say. There is nothing they cannot or should not hear. I can say that at least.”
“Shall I ask them to come?”
“Yes. Give me a swig of water first. It won’t be easy, but—”
He held out his hand, and the Young Doctor grasped it.
Suddenly the latter said: “You are sure you will not be sorry? That it is not a mood of the moment due to physical weakness?”
“Quite sure. I determined on it the day I was shot—and before I was shot.”
“All right.” The Young Doctor disappeared.