Diederich started, and stammered: "What does that matter to you?"
"Oh, nothing," said Heuteufel. "It just interests me from early times because I always prophesied that of you."
"What is it? Kindly explain yourself." But Heuteufel declined. Diederich glared at him. "I must insist most emphatically upon your doing your duty as a physician!"
Heuteufel replied that he was not Diederich's doctor. Whereupon the latter's commanding air collapsed, and he begged plaintively. "Sometimes I have pains in my throat. Do you think it will get worse? Is there anything to be afraid of?"
"I advise you to consult a specialist."
"But you are the only one here! For God's sake, Doctor, do not have this on your conscience, I have a family to support."
"Then you should smoke less and drink less. You had too much last night."
"Oh, is that all?" Diederich drew himself up. "You begrudge me the champagne, and then the greetings to the Emperor."
"If you suspect me of doubtful motives, you need not ask my opinion."
Diederich began to cringe again. "You might, at least, tell me whether I am liable to get cancer."
Heuteufel remained stern. "Well, you were always subject to scrofula and rickets as a child. You should have had your military training, then you would not now have so much flesh."
The end of it was that the Doctor consented to examine him and decided to paint his larynx. Diederich choked, rolled his eyes in terror and clutched the Doctor's arm. Heuteufel withdrew the brush. "If you go on like that, I can do nothing. You were always the same," he tittered.
As soon as Diederich had recovered his composure he made
