"Can you blame me?"
The Keneu purred above his pipe like a large and very happy cat--"Don't blame
you in the least. It's uncommonly good of you, and all the rest of it, but
every man--even you, Torp--must consider his work. I know it sounds brutal, but
Dick's out of the race,--down,--gastados expended, finished, done for. He has a
little money of his own. He won't starve, and you can't pull out of your slide
for his sake. Think of your own reputation."
"Dick's was five times bigger than mine and yours put together."
"That was because he signed his name to everything he did. It's all ended now.
You must hold yourself in readiness to move out. You can command your own
prices, and you do better work than any three of us."
"Don't tell me how tempting it is. I'll stay here to look after Dick for a
while. He's as cheerful as a bear with a sore head, but I think he likes to
have me near him."
The Nilghai said something uncomplimentary about soft-headed fools who throw
away their careers for other fools. Torpenhow flushed angrily. The constant
strain of attendance on Dick had worn his nerves thin.
"There remains a third fate," said the Keneu, thoughtfully. "Consider this, and
be not larger fools than necessary.
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