The Last Gentleman

clear about things,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “But I knew that I had business here.”
    â€œWhat kind of business?”
    He frowned. “As I told you: that I was to see you, as well as find Jamie.” He waited, hoping the other would tell him something, but Sutter was silent. The engineer happened to look down and caught sight of the two bottles in the Rexall bag. It was a bourbon called Two Natural. The cork showed a pair of dice rolling a lucky seven. “How is Jamie? Where is he?”
    â€œJamie is very sick.”
    â€œDid you tell Kitty?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œJamie doesn’t want them to come out.”
    â€œHow sick is he?”
    â€œHe got a sore throat driving out.”
    â€œThat’s not so bad, is it?”
    â€œIt wouldn’t be if he had any leucocytes.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œThe strep also lit up an old rheumatic lesion.”
    â€œYou mean in his heart?” asked the engineer, arming himself against the dread sweetness of bad news.
    But Sutter merely grunted and went on driving the Edsel in his old-fashioned sporty style, forefinger curled around the spoke of the steering wheel, left elbow propped on the sill. Presently the Edsel stopped in a shady street of tall Victorian houses which flanked a rambling frame building.
    â€œIs he in the hospital?” he asked Sutter.
    â€œYes,” said Sutter, but made no move to get out. Instead he hung fire politely, inclined sooty-eyed and civil over the wheel as if he were waiting on the engineer.
    The engineer blinked. “Is Jamie in there?”
    Sutter nodded and sat back with a sigh. “I’m very glad you’re here,” he said tapping the wheel.
    â€œDo you wish me—”
    â€œGo on in and see him. I have to go to work. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
    â€œWhere do you work?”
    â€œAt a guest ranch,” said Sutter absently. “It’s something like being a ship’s doctor. It’s only temporary, until—” He shrugged. “Jamie and I ran out of groceries.”
    When he got out, Sutter called him back.
    â€œI forgot to tell you about the purpura.”
    â€œPurpura?”
    â€œLike bruises. It’s a new development, not particularly serious in itself but somewhat disconcerting. I thought it might bother you if you didn’t know.”
    â€œThank you.” Don’t worry, thought the engineer confidently. It won’t bother me.
    7 .
    But the purpura upset him badly. Jamie’s face was covered with splotches of horrid color like oil slicks. It was as if a deep fetor, a swamp decay, had come to the surface. Speaking to him meant straining a bit as if one had to peer this way and that to see him through an evil garden of flowers.
    It was an odd, unfitting business anyhow, Jamie being here. Jamie was as sick as he could be, yet he lay in a room off the street, so to speak. Could one be truly sick without proper notice and an accounting? The door was wide open and anyone could walk in. Yet no one did. He was alone. Should not some official cognizance be taken of his illness, some authorized person interposed between visitor and patient? One had only to ask the room number downstairs and walk up. The engineer could not get over the feeling that Jamie was not properly sick.
    The patient was asleep. For some minutes the visitor stood about uncertainly, smiling warily, then, becoming alarmed, leaned closer to the sickbed. A sour heat radiated from the hollow of the pillow. In the triangle of Jamie’s neck, a large vein pulsed in a complex rhythm. Jamie was not noticeably thinner. In fact, a deposit of new tissue, or perhaps dropsical fluid, had occurred under his skin. His face, always puddingish and ill-defined, had gone even more out of focus.
    But no sooner had the engineer sat down than the patient opened his eyes and spoke to him quite naturally.
    â€œWhat are you doing in these parts?” Though he was fairly goggling with fever, Jamie kept his soldierly way of lying abed. He lounged like a wounded man, pushed down his thigh, made a grimace.
    â€œLooking for you and Sutter.”
    â€œWell, you found me. What do you want?”
    â€œNothing,” said the engineer as wryly as the other. He rose. “I’ll be seeing you.”
    Jamie laughed and made him sit down. “What’s the matter with your leg?” the engineer asked.
    â€œGot the