Breaking-Point

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER IV Dr. Arnoldi went into the courtyard, leaning heavily on his stick. He dragged his clumsily-built frame over the ground like some enormous burden. There was something tragic about the bent back and the hard, massive head, a heartfelt weariness that told of a spent life. It seemed as if he had not only to cross the courtyard, but like the Wandering Jew, to pursue an aimless path, without reason and without joy. His fat heavy face held no other expression than that of utter indifference; there was no room in it for joy or sorrow, for wishes or regrets. An old watch-dog, lying sulkily in front of his kennel, moved his chain and rubbed himself against it when he saw Dr. Arnoldi. He was used to seeing the doctor come every day and probably took the slow, clumsy figure for a thing of no significance in life. The courtyard was small and homely, and the broad sun burnt down like a furnace. There were still gay flower-beds in the little garden, tended with love and care, but the flowers were dusty, drooping, and trodden down, as though some one persisted in making his way to the house across them with heavy, stumbling footsteps. Close to the front door, an old, worn arm-chair stood in the middle of the path, evidently to be aired. Its stained leather cover stared in an impudent grimace, and Dr. Arnoldi's eyes were mechanically drawn to it as he went up the steps. The door was ajar, and the doctor, who was accustomed to it, pushed it open. Nobody was in the hall, where the air was unbearably stuffy and oppressive. He hung his hat up wearily on a nail, put his heavy stick in the corner, and went on. The simple, old-fashioned sitting-room awaited him in sorrowful silence. The dusty furniture, which had obviously not been touched for some time, was clumsily arrange...