coward. Now that I’m sure what’s happening I can say Kismet to it with all my heart. It was only the silly uncertainty that hurt. [There is a pause. Andrew looks around in impotent anguish, not knowing what to say. Robert regards him with an affectionate smile.]
Andrew—[Finally blurts out.] It isn’t foolish. You have got a chance. If you heard all the Doctor said that ought to prove it to you.
Robert—Oh, you mean when he spoke of the possibility of a miracle? [Dryly.] The Doctor and I disagree on that point. I don’t believe in miracles—in my case. Beside I know more than any doctor in earth could know—because I feel what’s coming. [Dismissing the subject.] But we’ve agreed not to talk of it. Tell me about yourself, Andy, and what you’ve done all these years. That’s what I’m interested in. Your letters were too brief and far apart to be illuminating.
Andrew—I meant to write oftener.
Robert—[With a faint trace of irony.] I judge from them you’ve accomplished all you set out to do five years ago?
Andrew—That isn’t much to boast of.
Robert—[Surprised.] Have you really, honestly reached that conclusion?
Andrew—Well, it doesn’t seem to amount to much now.
Robert—But you’re rich, aren’t you?
