The Button-Moulder with a gesture of despair made as if to sit down upon
the nearest chair, but was prevented with kindly firmness by his host.

"Not that chair, please. It may not be quite dry. I glued--"

The voice of the visitor suddenly returned. It was a very dry voice;
threadlike, but determined.

"Then if you will kindly find me a chair which you have not glued I
shall sit down and dispose of a few burning thoughts. Callandar, as soon
as you have finished playing the fool--"

"Consider it finished, old man."

"Then what does this, all this"--with a sweeping hand wave--"mean? You
cannot seriously intend to stay here?"

"Why not?"

"Your question is absurd."

"No, it isn't. Let it sink in. Why should I not stay here? Examine the
facts. I am ordered change, rest, interest, good air--a year at least
must elapse before I take up my life again. I must spend that year
somewhere. Why not here? It is healthy, high, piney, quiet. I had become
utterly tired of my tramping tour. All the good I can get from it I have
got. Chance, or whatever you like to call it, leads me to this place. A
place which needs a doctor and which this particular doctor needs. There
is nothing absurd about it."