"Prut, tut!" said he. "This is very bad--very bad indeed! Mind
unhinged, you say, and not likely to get over it! Dear, dear! I have
noticed a change in him these last few weeks. He looked like a man who
had something upon his mind. And how is Mr. Robert McIntyre?"
"He is very well. He was with me this morning when his father had this
attack."
"Ha! There is a change in that young man. I observe an alteration in
him. You will forgive me, Mr. Raffles Haw, if I say a few serious words
of advice to you. Apart from my spiritual functions I am old enough to
be your father. You are a very wealthy man, and you have used your
wealth nobly--yes, sir, nobly. I do not think that there is a man in a
thousand who would have done as well. But don't you think sometimes
that it has a dangerous influence upon those who are around you?"
"I have sometimes feared so." "We may pass over old Mr. McIntyre.
It would hardly be just, perhaps, to mention him in this connection.
But there is Robert. He used to take such an interest in his
profession. He was so keen about art. If you met him, the first words
he said were usually some reference to his plans, or the progress he was
making in his latest picture. He was ambitious, pushing, self-reliant.
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