"Well, that's that!" said the doctor, in a phrase he was fond of using when he dosed an episode in his mind. "I'll make my notes on Hancock's case and forget it until I find it necessary to use them in my work. And I'll lock up the poems Moultrie has sent me and I won't look at the book again for a month. Then I shall be able to read the verses for themselves and without any arrière-penseé.
"But, I wonder . . . ?"
The brougham stopped at the doctor's house in Russell Square.
BOOK ONE
LOTHIAN IN LONDON
"Myself, arch traitor to myself,
My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe,
My clog whatever road I go."
THE DRUNKARD