But the memory of magic was
still with him, and gave him a feeling of unrest, and a pertinacity that
was not to be without reward forever. Valentine's triumph held for the
conqueror a poison seed from which a flower was to spring. The doctor's
determination to continue the fight was frustrated at this time by
Julian, rather than by Valentine. Julian's disappointment plunged him
in a deep sea of indifference, from which he declined to be rescued. The
doctor's invitations to him remained unanswered. If he called, Julian
was never at home. Several times the doctor met Valentine, who, with a
deprecating smile, told him that Julian was away on some mad errand.
"I seldom see him now," he even added upon one occasion. "He has gone
beyond me. Julian is living so fast that my poor agility cannot keep pace
with him."
It seemed as if the whole affair was going completely out of the doctor's
knowledge, and that even Cuckoo had no longer any power of attraction for
Julian. The doctor wrote to her and received an ill-spelt answer, telling
him that Julian had not been near her since the last night of the year.
In this event the doctor's only hope lay in keeping closely in touch with
Valentine. To do this proved an easy matter.
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