"It was the result of a man's damnable folly," said K. grimly. "Somebody
always pays."
And so Johnny Rosenfeld paid.
The immediate result of his death was that K., who had gained some of his
faith in himself on seeing Wilson on the way to recovery, was beset by his
old doubts. What right had he to arrogate to himself again powers of life
and death? Over and over he told himself that there had been no
carelessness here, that the boy would have died ultimately, that he had
taken the only chance, that the boy himself had known the risk and begged
for it.
The old doubts came back.
And now came a question that demanded immediate answer. Wilson would be
out of commission for several months, probably. He was gaining, but
slowly. And he wanted K. to take over his work.
"Why not?" he demanded, half irritably. "The secret is out. Everybody
knows who you are. You're not thinking about going back to that ridiculous
gas office, are you?"
"I had some thought of going to Cuba."
"I'm damned if I understand you. You've done a marvelous thing; I lie here
and listen to the staff singing your praises until I'm sick of your name!
And now, because a boy who wouldn't have lived anyhow--"
"That's not it," K. put in hastily. "I know all that. I guess I could do
it and get away with it as well as the average. All that deters me--I've
never told you, have I, why I gave up before?"
Wilson was propped up in his bed. K. was walking restlessly about the room,
as was his habit when troubled.
"I've heard the gossip; that's all."
"When you recognized me that night on the balcony, I told you I'd lost my
faith in myself, and you said the whole affair had been gone over at the
State Society. As a matter of fact, the Society knew of only two cases.
There had been three."
"Even at that--"
"You know what I always felt about the profession, Max. We went into that
more than once in Berlin. Either one's best or nothing. I had done pretty
well. When I left Lorch and built my own hospital, I hadn't a doubt of
myself. And because I was getting results I got a lot of advertising. Men
began coming to the clinics. I found I was making enough out of the
patients who could pay to add a few free wards. I want to tell you now,
Wilson, that the opening of those free wards was the greatest
self-indulgence I ever permitted myself. I'd seen so much careless
attention given the poor--well, never mind that. It was almost three years
ago that things began to go wrong. I lost a big case."