Jack's tail dropped, and in deep sulks he walked off towards the railings in the middle of the square.
"Come here, sir" commanded the doctor firmly.
"Come here, sir!" shrieked the little girl in imitation.
Jack obeyed, totally disillusioned about the interestingness of dead leaves, and slipped in a flash down the area steps, the child after him. Dr. Raste moved towards the surgery, and saw Elsie in his path.
"No! No!" he said to her, kindly, humanly, for he had not yet had time to lose his fatherhood. "This won't do, you know. You must take your turn with the rest." He raised his hand in protest. He was acquainted with all the wiles of patients who wanted illicitly to forestall other patients.
"It isn't for myself, sir," said Elsie, with puckered brow, very nervous. "It's for Mr. Earlforward—at least, Mrs. Earlforward."
"Oh!" The doctor halted.
"You don't remember me, sir. Mrs. Sprickett, sir. Elsie, sir."
"Yes, of course." He ought to have proceeded: "By the way, Elsie, Joe's come back to-day." It would have been too wonderful if he had said that. But he didn't. He merely said: "Well, what's it all about?" somewhat impatiently, for at that moment the clock struck.
"Mr. Earlforward's that bad, sir. Can't fancy his food. And Mrs. Earlforward's bad too——"