"Make it strong. It's picking me up." He sat forward in his chair
and began to light a cigar, keeping his eyes on the doctor.
"Well, if you call that a change; to get like other men. Old Val was a
saint. I loved him then, but I love him ten times more now he's--a--the
other thing, you know. Ten times more. He knows the world now, and his
advice is worth having. I'd follow him anywhere. He can't go wrong. Takes
care of himself, and of me too. I might have been anything--anything, but
for him. Instead of what I am--"
He drew himself up with some pride, and pulled at the cup which Cuckoo
pushed towards him.
"I'm just what Val makes me; just what he makes me," he said, taking
obvious joy in the thought. "Val can make me do anything. You know that,
doctor?"
"Yes. Then you have changed with him, become more of a man, as you call
it, with him. Is that so, Julian?"
"I suppose so."
Julian was drinking his tea, which had become very strong from standing.
"And are you happier than you were before?"
The doctor spoke insistently and gravely. Cuckoo had taken Jessie onto
her lap and now stroked the little dog quickly and softly with a thin,
fluttering hand. Julian seemed trying to think, to dive into his mind and
discover its real feelings.
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