“Look at me.”
Jerome, flushing with angry shame at his own simplicity as revealed to him by this other, older, superior intellect, yet defiant still at this attack upon his truth, looked the doctor straight in his keen eyes.
“Are you speaking the truth?”
“Yes, sir.”
Still the doctor looked at him, and Jerome would not cast his eyes down, nor, indeed, could. He felt as if his very soul were being stretched up on tiptoe to the doctor's inspection.
“Children had better follow the wisdom of their elders,” said the doctor. He would not even deign to explain to this boy the absurdity of his scheme.
He replaced the great gold watch in his pocket. “I will be in soon, and talk over matters with your mother,” he said, turning away.
Jerome gave a gasp. He stumbled forward, as if to fall on his knees at the doctor's feet.
“Oh, sir, don't, don't!” he cried out.
“Don't what?”