Every
brainworker, he held, must in his spare time be able to detach his
thoughts from his chief business, pin them to something of quite another
kind, no matter how trivial: keep fowls or root round gardens, play the
flute or go in for carpentry. Now, he might have dug till his palms
blistered, it would not help. Those he prescribed for teased him like a
pack of spirit-presences, which clamour to be heard. And if a serious
case took a turn for the worse, he would find himself rising in a sweat
of uncertainty, and going lamp in hand into the surgery, to con over a
prescription he had written during the day. And one knew where THAT kind
of thing led!
Now, as if all this were not enough, there was added to it the old,
evergreen botheration about money.
Chapter X
Thus far, Ocock had nursed his mining investments for him with a
fatherly care. He himself had been free as a bird from responsibility.
Every now and again he would drop in at the office, just to make sure
the lawyer was on the alert; and each time he came home cheerful with
confidence. That was over now. As a first result of the breach, he
missed--or so he believed--clearing four hundred pounds. Among the
shares he held was one lot which till now had proved a sorry bargain.
Soon after purchase something had gone wrong with the management of the
claim; there had been a lawsuit, followed by calls unending and never a
dividend. Now, when these shares unexpectedly swung up to a high level--
only to drop the week after to their standing figure--Ocock failed to
sell out in the nick of time.
Pages:
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527