Mr Questing laughed uproariously and said that he saw they understood each other. His conversation became thick with hints and evasions. After a minute or two Dikon saw that he himself was being offered some sort of inducement. Mr Questing told him repeatedly that he would be looked after, that he would have every cause for personal gratification if Geoffrey Gaunt decided to take the cure. It was not by any means the first scene of its kind. Dikon was mildly entertained, and, while he listened to Mr Questing, turned over the pamphlets. The medical recommendations seemed very good. A set of rooms—Mr Questing called it a suite—would be theirs. Mr Questing would see to it that the rooms were refurnished. Dikon’s eyebrows went up, and Mr Questing, becoming very confidential, said that he believed in doing things in a big way. He was not, he said, going to pretend that he didn’t recognize the value of such a guest to the Springs. Dikon distrusted him more with every phrase he uttered, but he began to think that if such enormous efforts were to be made, Gaunt should be tolerably comfortable at Wai-ata-tapu. He put out a feeler.

‘I understand,’ he said, ‘that there is a resident doctor.’

He was surprised to see Mr Questing change colour. ‘Dr Tonks,’ Questing said, ‘doesn’t actually reside at the Springs, Mr Bell. He’s at Harpoon. Only a few minutes by road. A very, very fine doctor.’

‘I meant Dr James Ackrington.’

Mr Questing did not answer immediately. He offered Dikon a cigarette, lit one himself and rang the bell again.

‘Dr Ackrington,’ Dikon repeated.

‘Oh, yes. Ye-es. The old doctor. Quite a character.’

‘Doesn’t he live at the hostel?’

‘That is correct. Yes. That is the case. The old doctor’s retired now, I understand.’

‘He’s something of an authority on muscular and nervous complaints, isn’t he?’

‘Is that so?’ said Mr Questing. ‘Well, well, well. The old doctor, eh? Quite a character. Well, now, Mr Bell, I’ve a little suggestion to make. I’ve been wondering if you’d be interested in a wee trip to the Springs. I’m driving back there tomorrow. It’s a six hours’ run and I’d be very very delighted to take you with me. Of course the suite won’t be poshed up by then. You’ll see us in the raw, sir, but any suggestions you cared to make…’

‘Do you live there, Mr Questing?’

‘You can’t keep me away from the Springs for long,’ cried Mr Questing evasively. ‘Now about this suggestion of mine…’

‘It’s very kind of you,’ said Dikon thoughtfully. He rose to his feet and held out his hand. ‘I’ll tell Mr Gaunt about it. Thank you so much.’

Mr Questing wrung his hand excruciatingly.

‘Goodbye,’ said Dikon politely.

‘I’m staying here tonight, Mr Bell, and I’ll be right on the spot if…’