The Doctor and the Diva [antikvár]

BOSTON 19 03 octor Ravell had already missed the funeral. The body was being carried from the church as he arrived. Many of Boston s most prominent physicians descended the gránité steps in a parade of canes and black silk hats, the modest old man in the casket the most esteemed of them all. Six or seven members of the von Kessler family—all of them doctors—served as pallbearers, and they shouldered the gleaming casket suitable for a king. Ravell wondered how many others, like him, must have deserted patients at their bedsides in order to jóin the procession. He heard his name called, a black top hat raised and waved in his di-rection like a celebratory shout. "Ravell!" It was Doctor Gerald von Kessler, a homeopath, who greeted him— the nephew of the man they'd come to mourn. His short wife stood beside him, with violets blooming in her hat. The couple insisted that Ravell ride with them to the cemetery. In the privacy of their carriage, Doctor von Kessler leaned closer to confide. "Can you help my sister?" von Kessler said. "This is what I am asking." "We are afraid," his wife added, "that she has grown desperate." Doctor von Kessler removed his top hat and placed it on the seat. "My sister's husband has become obsessed. He's dragged her to physician after physician, put her through every procedure and humiliation so that she can have a child. He won't relent." "I'd be honored to help your sister," Ravell said, "in any way I can."