About a year and a halfbefore，Doctor Dohmler had some vague
correspondence with an American gentleman living in Lausanne， a Mr.
Devereux Warren， of the Warren family of Chicago. A meeting
was arranged and one day Mr. Warren arrived at the clinic with
his daughter Nicole，a girl of sixteen. She was obviously not well
and the nurse who was with her took her to walk about the grounds
while
Mr. Warren had his consultation.
Warren was a strikingly handsome man looking less than forty. He
was a fine American type in every way，tall，broad，well-made-"un
homme tres chic，"as Doctor Dohmler described him to Franz.
His large gray eyes were sun-veined from rowing on Lake
Geneva，and he had that special air about him of having known the
best of this world. The conversation was in German，for it developed
that he had been educated at Gottingen. He was nervous and
obviously very moved by his errand.
"Doctor Dohmler，my daughter isn''t right in the head. I''ve had
lots of specialists and nurses for her and she''s taken a couple of
rest cures but the thing has grown too big for me and I''ve been
strongly
recommended to come to you. "
……
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