No! He was uplifted and happy now for the simple reason that he had
caught the romance of the doctor's idea of taking idleness seriously and
practising it as a profession. If circumstances forced him to be idle,
he would be idle in the grand manner. He would do everything that the
doctor had suggested, and more. (The doctor saw life like a poet. He
might be a cross between a comedian and a mountebank, but he was a great
fellow.) Every species of idleness should have its appointed hour. In
the pursuit of idleness he would become the busiest man in London. A
definite programme would be necessary. Strict routine would be
necessary. No more loafing about! He hankered after routine as the
drunkard after alcohol. Routine was what he had been missing. The
absence of routine, and naught else, was retarding his recovery. (Yes,
he knew in his heart that what they all said was true,--he was not
getting better.) His own daughter had taught him wisdom. Inevitably,
unavoidably, he was the new rich. Well, he would be the new rich
thoroughly. No other aim was logical.... Let the radiator burn!




CHAPTER XI

NEURASTHENIA CURED

I


Three days later Mr. Prohack came home late with his daughter in the
substituted car. He had accompanied Sissie to Putney for the final