Clutterbuck's Odd Behaviour

: The Blue Germ

Scarcely had the Home Secretary departed when my maid announced that a

patient was waiting to see me in my study.



I left Sarakoff sitting tranquilly in the waiting-room and entered the

study. A grave, precise, clean-shaven man was standing by the window. He

turned as I entered. It was Mr. Clutterbuck.



"So you are Dr. Harden!" he exclaimed.



He stopped and looked confused.
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"Yes," I said; "please sit down, Mr. Clutterbuck."



He did so, twisting his hat awkwardly and gazing at the floor.



"I owe you an apology," he said at length. "I came to consult you,

little expecting to find that it was you after all--that you were Dr.

Harden. I must apologize for my rudeness to you in the tea-shop, but

what you said was so extraordinary ... you could not expect me to

believe."



He glanced at me, and then looked away. There was a dull flush on his

face.



"Please do not apologize. What did you wish to consult me about?"



"About my wife."



"Is she worse?"



"No." He dropped his hat, recovered it, and finally set it upon a corner

of the table. "No, she is not worse. In fact, she is the reverse. She is

better."



I waited, feeling only a mild interest in the cause of his agitation.



"She has got the Blue Disease," he continued, speaking with difficulty.

"She got it yesterday and since then she has been much better. Her cough

has ceased. She--er--she is wonderfully better." He began to drum with

his fingers on his knee, and looked with a vacant gaze at the corner of

the room. "Yes, she is certainly better. I was wondering if----"



There was a silence.



"Yes?"



He started and looked at me.



"Why, you've got it, too!" he exclaimed. "How extraordinary! I hadn't

noticed it." He got to his feet and went to the window. "I suppose I

shall get it next," he muttered.



"Certainly, you'll get it."



He nodded, and continued to stare out of the window. At length he spoke.



"My wife is a woman who has suffered a great deal, Dr. Harden. I have

never had enough money to send her to health resorts, and she has always

refused to avail herself of any institutional help. For the last year

she has been confined to a room on the top floor of our house--a nice,

pleasant room--and it has been an understood thing between Dr. Sykes and

myself that her malady was to be given a convenient name. In fact, we

have called it a weak heart. You understand, of course."



"Perfectly."



"I have always been led to expect that the end was inevitable," he

continued, speaking with sudden rapidity. "Under such circumstances I

made certain plans. I am a careful man, Dr. Harden, and I look ahead and

lay my plans." He stopped abruptly and turned to face me. "Is there any

truth in what you told me the other day?"



I nodded. A curiously haggard expression came over him. He stepped

swiftly towards me and caught my arm.



"Does the germ cure disease?"



"Of course. Your wife is now immortal. You need not be alarmed, Mr.

Clutterbuck. She is immortal. Before her lies a future absolutely free

from suffering. She will rapidly regain her normal health and strength.

Provided she avoids accidents, your wife will live for ever."



"My wife will live forever?" he repeated hoarsely. "Then what will

happen to me?"



"You, too, will live for ever," I said calmly. "Please do not grasp my

arm so violently."



He drew back. He was extremely pale, and there were beads of

perspiration on his brow.



"Are you married?" he asked.



"No."



"Have you any idea what all this means to me if what you say is true?"

he exclaimed. He drew his hand across his eyes. "I am mad to believe you

for an instant. But she is better--there is no denying that. Good God,

if it is true, what a tragedy you have made of human lives!"



He remained standing in the middle of the room, and I, not

comprehending, gazed at him. Then, of a sudden, he picked up his hat,

and muttering something, dashed out and vanished.



I heard the front door bang. Perfectly calm and undisturbed, I rejoined

Sarakoff in the waiting-room. The incident of Mr. Clutterbuck passed

totally from my mind, and I began to reflect on certain problems arising

out of the visit of the Home Secretary.



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