“None in the least. Pray do not stand upon ceremony, my friend.”
Mr. Shearman took up his cigar, the end of which he replaced between his lips.
“So you are pretty punctual, it would appear,” observed his companion.
“Ya’s; always make it a rule to be up to time, if it is possible.”
The doctor placed a chair for his visitor.
“Oh, thank you—much obliged, I’m sure.”
He seated himself, and stretched out his long thin legs with the utmost complacency.
The doctor looked at him inquiringly, but his countenance gave no indication of either pleasure or anger; it was a perfect blank.
“Wrench said you had something to communicate to me. I assume that his statement is correct.”
“Perfectly correct; but you are not in any hurry—that is, I ’spose you’ve got an hour or two to spare?”