The Night Horseman by Max Brand
page 6 of 353 (01%)
page 6 of 353 (01%)
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Randall Byrne here rubbed his eyes. "What steps do you suggest that I consider?" he queried. The great physician spat noisily. "Marry a farmer's daughter," he said brutally. "But," said Randall Byrne vaguely. "I am a busy man and you've wasted ten minutes of my time," said the great physician, turning back to his plate glass window. "My secretary will send you a bill for one thousand dollars. Good-day." And therefore, ten days later, Randall Byrne sat in his room in the hotel at Elkhead. He had just written (to his friend Swinnerton Loughburne, M.A., Ph.D., L.L.D.): "Incontrovertibly the introduction of the personal equation leads to lamentable inversions, and the perceptive faculties when contemplating phenomena through the lens of ego too often conceive an accidental connotation or manifest distortion to be actuality, for the physical (or personal) too often beclouds that power of inner vision which so unerringly penetrates to the inherent truths of incorporeity and the extramundane. Yet this problem, to your eyes, I fear, not essentially novel or peculiarly involute, holds for my contemplative faculties an extraordinary fascination, to wit: wherein does the mind, in itself a muscle, escape from the laws of the physical, and wherein and wherefore do the laws of the physical exercise so inexorable a |
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