The physician shook his head. “No—no better.”
“You consider his case serious?”
“Yes,”—gravely—“it is serious.”
“I will tell you, Doctor—for you must understand it before you can answer me—that the business is in a situation that demands his attention if he is able to give it—even for five minutes.”
Doctor Brown shook his head again.
“Could I not lay a decision before him, Doctor, if I make it as clear and simple as possible?”
“No; a decision would be the last thing to bother him with.”
Halloran sat thinking. This was difficult—very difficult, indeed. Shutting down another man's mills without his knowledge was not the sort of thing he liked to do. The physician spoke again:
“His mind must have a rest, Mr. Halloran; that is the only way we can save him.”
This was final, and Halloran went out to return to his room and pore again over accounts and statements, to think again of Bigelow, to grope again for those ideas that seemed so nearly what he wanted. For another week he watched the expense account mounting up; then one day he sent for Crosman to come to his office.