The doctor hesitated. What was he to do? Jack had already returned to the cell in which his mistress lay. To remove him by the brutal exercise of main force was a proceeding from which Doctor Dormann's delicacy of feeling naturally recoiled—to say nothing of the danger of provoking that outbreak of madness against which the doctor had himself warned Mr. Keller. Persuasion he had already tried in vain. Delegated authority to control Jack had not been conferred on him. There seemed to be no other course than to yield.
"If you persist in your obstinacy," he said to Jack, "I must return alone to Mr. Keller's house, and tell him that I have left you here with your friend."
Jack was already absorbed in his own thoughts. He only repeated vacantly, "Good-night."
Doctor Dormann left the room. Schwartz looked in at his guest. "Wait there for the present," he said. "The porter will be here directly: I don't want him to see you."
The porter came in after an interval. "All right for the night?" he asked.
"All right," Schwartz answered.
The porter withdrew in silence. The night-watchman's reply was his authority for closing the gates of the Deadhouse until the next morning.
Schwartz returned to Jack—still watching patiently by the side of the couch. "Was she a relation of yours?" he asked.
"All the relations in the world to me!" Jack burst out passionately. "Father and mother—and brother and sister and wife."
"Aye, aye? Five relations in one is what I call an economical family," said Schwartz. "Come out here, to the table. You stood treat last time—my turn now. I've got the wine handy. Yes, yes—she was a fine woman in her time, I dare say. Why haven't you put her into a coffin like other people?"