“I'll come in soon again, if I may,” I told him.
“Do, Paret,” he said, “it's done me good to talk to you—more good than you imagine.”
I was unable to answer him, but I glanced back from the doorway to see him smiling after me. On my way down the stairs I bumped into the doctor as he ascended. The dingy brown parlour was filled with men, standing in groups and talking in subdued voices. I hurried into the street, and on the sidewalk stopped face to face with Perry Blackwood.
“Hugh!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to inquire for Krebs,” I answered. “I've seen him.”
“You—you've been talking to him?” Perry demanded.
I nodded. He stared at me for a moment with an astonishment to which I was wholly indifferent. He did not seem to know just how to act.
“Well, it was decent of you, Hugh, I must say. How does he seem?”
“Not at all like—like what you'd expect, in his manner.”
“No,” agreed Perry agitatedly, “no, he wouldn't. My God, we've lost a big man in him.”