"You don't seem to grasp quite all that this means," he continued. "For
the first time in my life, I have signed a certificate of death for a
living person!"
"You have signed the certificate?" I asked.
He nodded.
"The undertaker has it."
The maid entered just then with the tea. I ordered another cup for Rust,
and when it had arrived, I made him sit down opposite to me.
"His was exactly the kind of illness," he remarked thoughtfully, "to lead
to something of this sort. I am quite sure now, whatever Kauppmann's
friend may say, that his disease was not a natural one. He has been
suffering from some strange form of poisoning. It is the most interesting
case I have ever come in contact with. There were certain symptoms--"
"Rust," I interrupted, "forgive me, but I don't want to hear about
symptoms. I want to talk to you as man to man. We are old friends! You
must listen carefully to what I have to say."
Rust's good-humored, weather-beaten, little face was almost pitiful.
"You're going to pitch into me, of course," he remarked.
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