Oppenshaw looked at his nails carefully without speaking. Simon watched him.
"Tell me," said Simon, "is this confounded disease, or whatever it is, recurrent?"
"You mean is there any fear that your old self—or, rather, your young self—is preparing for another outbreak?"
"Precisely."
"That this drawing of another ten thousand, unknown to yourself, is only the first act in a similar drama, or shall we say comedy?"
"Yes."
"Well, I can't say for certain, for the disease, or the ailment, if you like the term better, has not been long enough before the eyes of science to make quite definite statements. But, as far as I can judge, I'm afraid it is."
Simon swallowed.
"Leaving aside the fact of the similarity of the action and the amount of money drawn, we have the similarity in time. It is true that last year it was in May you started the business."