Mauritius

And there is no need to worry.He didn't go to the doctor's house easily, even if he was banned from visiting forever, it didn't matter.

He went there on a cold night in May.The weather has been rough in the spring and is expected to be the same in the summer.Exactly three years ago he had come down here under warm skies to train for the Cambridge affair.Remembering how severe the old man was at that time, his heart beat faster and faster.He found that the old man was in a good mood, playing bridge with his daughter and wife, and he wanted to bring Maurice in, making them four.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have something to say to you." He said this with such emotion that he felt he would never be able to express his feelings.

"Okay, let's talk about it."

"I mean, I'd like to ask you for a diagnosis and treatment."

"My God, I'm retired and haven't practiced medicine in six years. You go to Jericho or Jowett. Sit down, Maurice. Nice to see you, I never thought you were dying. Polly! Bring a whiskey to the dying flower."

Maurice still stood, then turned away strangely.Dr. Barry followed into the hall and said, "Hey, Maurice, can I do something serious for you?"

"I believe you can!"

"I don't even have a consulting room."

"It's a private disease that Jowett can't treat. I'd rather come to you--you're the only doctor in the world I can tell. I told you before that I wish I could learn to be bold and open." Say it, that's what it is."

"A secret distress, huh? All right, come here."

They went to the dining room.Trays of leftover desserts lay on the table.On the mantelpiece stands the Medici

1449-1492) was a Florentine statesman, ruler and patron of literature and art.The Italian sculptor Michelangelo (1475-1564) learned to carve in Medici Garden with his help.In the second half of the 15th century, thanks to Lorenzo's encouragement, art flourished in Florence.The rule of the Medici family lasted until the 18th century. ), a bronze statue of Venus on the wall, and a copy of Greuze on the wall.Maurice tried to speak, but couldn't.Poured out a little water, failed again, and burst into sobs.

"Talk calmly." The old man said very kindly. "Of course, remember: this involves my medical ethics. What you said will never reach your mother's ears."

The ugliness of the interview overwhelmed Maurice, and he seemed to be back in the train car again.He wept for the appalling situation in which he had been pursued.He had originally planned not to confide in anyone but Clive.He couldn't find the right words, so he muttered: "About women—"

In fact, Dr. Barry had figured it out since their conversation in the hall.He himself had a little trouble when he was young, which made him sympathetic to it. "We'll make you well soon," he said.

Maurice didn't wait for more tears to flow, and managed to hold them back.He felt the remaining tears piled up, oppressing his brain in agony. "Oh, do cure me," he said, sinking deep into a chair, with his arms hanging down. "I'm almost screwed."

"Ah, about women! I remember very well the days when you gave a volley from the school pulpit...my poor brother died that year...you stared at a teacher wife... I remember thinking at the time: He has so much to learn, life is a strict school. Only women can teach us, and there are bad women as well as good ones. Ah, ah!" He Cleared his throat. "Hey, boy, don't be afraid of me. Just tell me the truth, and I'll cure you. Where did you get this dirty thing? In college?"

Maurice didn't understand.Then, cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "It's not such a dirty disease." He said violently, "Although I am not healthy, I am as good as a jade."

Dr. Barry seemed offended.As he locked the door, he said in a rather contemptuous tone, "Impotence, is it? Let's check."

Maurice angrily stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside.He was insulted, just as Ada had been insulted.

"You are normal." This is the doctor's diagnosis.

"What do you mean by normal, sir?"

"What I'm saying is, you're a pure man. On that point, there's nothing to worry about."

He sat down by the fireplace.Although Dr. Barry's impression of things was vague, his posture was noticed.The artistry is not strong, but it can be said to be wonderful.He sat as usual, with body and face as if filled with indomitable spirit, gazing into the flames.He wouldn't give in—for some reason he gave the impression of being so.He may be dull and clumsy, but once he gets what he wants, he will hold on to it until the sky and the earth are red with shame.

"You are normal." The other party repeated. "You could be married tomorrow if you wanted to. If you'd take an old man's advice, you'd do it. Now put on your clothes, it's quite a draught. What made you think of all this?"

"You never guessed," he said.Although very frightened, there was a hint of contempt in his tone. "I'm an Oscar Wilde type of person who can't tell." He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, pressed them, and sat motionless.His appeal against Caesar was over.

He heard the trial at last, and could hardly believe his ears, and it was: "Nonsense! Nonsense!" He expected the doctor to say all sorts of things, but not this one.Because if he's talking nonsense, his life is just a dream.

"Doctor Barry, I haven't explained—"

"Listen to me now, Maurice. Never let such evil visions come to your mind again, temptations from the devil."

The voice moved him deeply.Isn't science talking?

"Who put such a lie in your head? You're a decent man! I can see and understand you. Let's never talk about this r again. No--I'll never talk about it, never touch the subject .The worst thing I can do for you is discuss this."

"I wish to have your advice," said Maurice.He resisted Dr. Barry's domineering attitude. "For me, it's not nonsense, it's about my life."

"Nonsense." Came a voice full of authority.

"I don't know how, but I've been like this for as long as I can remember. What is it? Am I sick? If I'm sick, I hope to be well. I can't bear this desolation any longer, especially It’s been the last six months. No matter what you tell me, I’ll do it. I’ve told you everything I want, so please help me.”

He resumed his original posture, staring at the fire with all his heart.

"Come on! Put on your clothes."

"I'm sorry." He whispered, and obeyed the doctor.Then Dr. Barry unlocked the door and called, "Polly! Whiskey!" The consultation was over.

Dr. Barry gave the best medical advice he could give.He had never read the medical papers on Morris's condition, and they didn't exist when he was practicing at the hospital.The relevant papers published later were all written in German, so they are suspicious.He naturally resented it, and cheerfully assented to society's verdict.In other words, it is a verdict from a theological standpoint.Only the most depraved, he believed, would glance at Sodom.Therefore, when a man of clean birth and health confessed to him that he had such a tendency, he naturally replied, "Nonsense! Nonsense!" He was quite sincere.He was convinced that Maurice had overheard some remarks which had given rise to morbid thoughts, and that a physician's contemptuous silence would have instantly dispelled such doubts.

Maurice did not leave indifferently.In Hall's house, Dr. Barry is famous, and he brought Kitty back to life twice.Mr. Hall was under his care throughout his last illness.He was very upright, independent and never said anything insincere.For nearly 20 years, he has been the supreme authority in their family.They didn't turn to him easily, but the whole family knew of his existence and that he could judge right from wrong.Now, although he concluded that Morris was "talking nonsense", every cell in Morris resisted, and he still had doubts in his heart: Could it be that he was really talking nonsense?He hated Dr. Barry's philosophy: tolerating prostitution was downright mean.But he still respects the doctor's idea.He deliberately argued with fate again and left the doctor's house.

Due to a reason that it was inconvenient to tell the doctor, he strengthened his intention.Clive became interested in women just after he turned 24.In August, he will turn 24.Maybe he will change too... Now that I think about it, there are very few men who get married before the age of 24.Like most Britons, Morris was surprised by the variety of people in society.His troubles had taught him that there were other people living in the world, but hadn't told him that there were all kinds of people.He tries to see Clive's development as a precursor to his own.

If you can get married, with the society and the law