"You are right, and I have been wrong."
"Damn it, Ted, don't be so ridiculous with that long jaw. It's all in the family. Take a week off with Helen and come back fresh to your job. You went a bit stale, that's all."
"My going stale has cost you a lot of money," I muttered.
"Experience always costs money, Ted. I don't grudge paying for it, if one really learns from it. You told me something about the process of elimination once. The next time you eliminate, go all the way."
"The consulting chemists we called in didn't find the trouble."
"No, they were experts, like you."
I smiled at this, because I knew I deserved it.
"That's better, Ted," my father said when he saw me smile. "The whole trouble has been that you lost your sense of humour over this job. Don't lose it again."
"Suppose," I said at bed-time that evening, "that we find nothing the matter with the acid?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now you and Helen pack up in the morning, clear out for a week, and I'll have the acid examined while you are away."