He looked so battered, poor old Anthony, that I felt almost ashamed of the success of my bombardment.
"It's not a question of suggesting," said I."It's a question of things that have to be done.

You need a holiday.

You've been working here at high pressure for nearly a couple of years.

Go away.

Put yourself in the hands of Cliffe, and go to Bournemouth, or Biarritz, or Bahia, or any beastly place you can fix up with him to go to.