Probably I’d busted in on the middle of his favorite Bach cantata. His greasy black curls fell into his eyes when he shook himself.He came out of it but his co-ordination was all loused up. He started to reach for the back of his skull with his right hand, then fell forward again and clutched the break. He lay there with his teeth grinding. Finally he looked up at me.“All right, Bogardus, let’s have it.”“Bananas, Jack, I gotta get a doctor. You gotta get me to a doctor.”I sauntered over to Sally’s chair and sat down. I got comfortable. I grinned at him.“Look, now, look, it’s all out o’ shape. If I don’t get to a—”“We’ll do it make-believe, Bogardus, how about that? You must be the ailing prince and I must be the royal physician. Won’t that be fun?”He didn’t dig games much. He sucked in his breath with his lips drawn back and he didn’t answer.“Talk. All of it.”“Can I sit up?”I nodded. He built himself up against the bed, working with the weight on his good arm, and then leaned there with his head back.
