"The rule is," said he wearily, "that conversations between a doctor and his patient are privileged and cannot be testified to without the consent of the patient. If Brown had been a doctor—which he is not—it is possible that I might have sustained Mr. Tutt's objection on the ground and struck out the conversation. But he only pretended to be a doctor, and no privilege exists under those circumstances even if in some cases it seems to work a hardship upon the one who is deceived. The conversation in this instance is part of the record. You may retire."
But Bently, with a light upon his countenance such as theretofore had ne'er been seen on sea or land, suddenly held up his hand.
"One question, Your Honor. If Brown had been a doctor you would have excluded the testimony?"
The aged angel raised his eyebrows deprecatingly.
"Perhaps; I might have considered the suggestion."
"Thank you," said Bently, and they all traipsed out.
"That cooks him!" whispered Phelan to Mr. Tutt at the keyhole.
"Wait and see! Wait and see!" muttered the lawyer. "We're not dead yet."
Once back in their room the jury took another vote. Eleven to one again. Then Bently rose.
"Gentlemen," he cried, "I think I have the key to this case."