Next day we moved Strickland.It needed a good deal of firmness and still more patience to induce him to come,but he was really too ill to offer any effective resistance to Stroeves entreaties and to my determination.We dressed him,while he feebly cursed us,got him downstairs,into a cab,and eventually to Stroeves studio.He was so exhausted by the time we arrived that he allowed us to put him to bed without a word.He was ill for six weeks.At one time it looked as though he could not live more than a few hours,and I am convinced that it was only through the Dutchmans doggedness that he pulled through.I have never known a more difficult patient.It was not that he was exacting and querulous;on the contrary,he never complained,he asked for nothing,he was perfectly silent;but he seemed to resent the care that was taken of him;he received all inquiries about his feelings or his needs with a jibe,a sneer,or an oath.I found him detestable,and as soon as he was out of danger I had no hesitation in telling him so.

　　‘Go to hell’,he answered briefly.

　　Dirk Stroeve,......