"
"It's rather more common, perhaps, out of asylums than in them,"
muttered Cleary, but the doctor did not hear him. "Do you think he
will ever recover, doctor?" he continued.
The doctor shook his head ominously.
"And will he live to old age in this condition?"
"He might, if there were nothing else the matter with him, but there
is, and perhaps it's a fortunate thing. He's got a new disease called
filariasis, a sort of low fever that he picked up in the Cubapines or
Porsslania. There's a good deal of it among the soldiers who have come
back. We have a lot of lunatics from the army here and several of them
have this new fever too. It wouldn't kill him alone, either, but the
two things together will surely carry him off. He will hardly live
another half-year."
"I suppose his family is looking out for him?" said Cleary.
"His mother visits him pretty regularly, and his father comes
sometimes," said the doctor, "but I think his wife has only been here
twice. And she's living at East Point, too, only an hour or two away.
She's a born flirt, and I think she's tired of him. I'm told that
one of this year's graduates there, a fellow named Saunders, is paying
attention to her, and when the poor captain dies, I doubt if she
remains long a widow."
[Illustration: HARMLESS
"HE SITS LIKE THAT FOR HOURS"]
"Then I suppose there is nothing I can do for the dear old chap?" asked
Cleary, with tears in his eyes, as he took his leave of the doctor at
the door of the building.
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