“Go round to the window,” a reedy voice replied.
“I’m not going to stand outside like a common workman. Open this door.”
“Father, go to the window. You’ll be glad of the fresh air. This room is rank.”
“If it is, it’s because you choose to live in filth. Open the door.”
“It’s not locked. If you’re determined to see me, come in.”
“Your mother is waiting with your wife in the drawing room. We need to discuss how you can free yourself from your delusions—or at least pay your debts.”
“I assure you, Father, my debts are no laughing matter.”
“I am aware. But hiding in this room won’t solve your problems. You have to come out.”
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