The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 272: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

268 A knock and I was adinitted to the doctor’s presence. I suppose I must have looked very scared. Anyway, the surgeon assumed me to be a patient needing prompt medical aid. Ile was at my side in a moment; had his fingers on my pulse before I could stop him, and said: “What have you been doing with yourself 7 ” “Tt is what others have been doing with me.” A grim utterance—I could not help it—yet I was conscious of the absurdity of what I was saying even as I spoke. “Your pulse is in such a condition that ” It is not pleasant to feel yourself mis- understood. Somewhat impatiently I stopped him. “It is not about myself. I am not unwell. I want you to put on your hat and come with me—to some one else— if you will.” He dropped my hand. There came to his face the annoyed look which a man exhibits when he finds he has made a foolish mistake. He queried: “Accident ? ” “N-no. Although, after all, I sup- pose I ought to call it so.” I said this to the accompaniment of a sickly smile—I had almost said laugh —whollvy incomprehensible to the sur- geon. He eyed me suspiciously, then questioned abruptly: “Far from here?” “Tn Gray’s Inn.” He had walked out into the hall-way ; had got on his hat by that time; then he said : “T am ready.” Evidently he was a man of few words. He spoke, too, with a promptness which accorded with his actions. “One moment.” So speaking, I made an cffort to swallow a lump which wou/d come up in mv throat. “ Before we go,” I continued, “ it is just as well—necessary—I should ex- plain.” “Jixplain away.” This promptitude of his got on my nerves. IIe was a_ short, aggressive man; THE ARGOSY. given to the utterance of sentences proportionate and. in keeping; had a way of ejecting them staccato fashion. Brevity inspires brevity. I felt my- self unconsciously dropping into his curt manner. “Tam a solicitor.” “ Yes—residing in the Inn?” “A woman—I should say a girl—a young girl came to my rooms to-night.” The tightening of his lips, which was plainly visible, did not augur well: created in me an unpleasant feeling. “Don’t misunderstand me.” I spoke hurriedly, over anxiously perhaps. “ Prav don’t do that!” “Tl try not to.” “ She was a stranger to me.” ce Ah! ID It was as much as he could do to eject the word—his lips had tightened so. His scrutiny of me was of the keenest kind. ‘* And she’s been taken very ill.” “The matter with her? ” His voicing of the question was in a tone that sounded as if he were en- deavoring to run up the scale; was full, too, of interrogation points. “JT don’t know.” “In your rooms now?” “ Yes—lI left her there.” “ Who’s looking after her? ” “Not @ soul.” | “Very ill—and you left her there alone? ” “What was I todo? Don’t blame me. Think of the time of night. Besides, I had no one there but myself.” “ Which accounts for her visit? ” That kindled my irritation. I blazed up at what was as much comment as question; I could not help it. Anger opening up the way, indigna- tion found vent. “Come!” I said, speaking hotly. “You have no scrap of right to think evil of me. Why should you—I have given you-no cause?” To my great astonishment he took off his hat; was hanging it up again be- fore I could get out the words: “What are you going to do?” “Not going with you.” “There are other doctors.” turned on his heel. “ Go to them.” He ECOMRRIC LOG (GO) awa