“Good! Now what is it that points to you?”
“I don’t know any more than you.”
“What are the ‘some things’ that are worse than death?”
Mr. Robinson shook his head. “I haven’t the slightest notion in the world.”
“Nor of the ‘short cut’ which you are advised to take?”
“I suppose it means suicide.” He paused for a moment. “They can’t drive me to that—unless they drive me crazy first.” He wiped the sweat from under his eyes, breathing hard.
“Who are they?”
Mr. Robinson shook his head. In the next question the interrogator’s tone altered and became more insistent.
“Have you ever called in a doctor, Mr. Robinson?”
“Only once in five years. That was when my nerves broke down—under this.”