"It was. A strange and sad adventure. You behaved very kindly, and I should like to repay what you expended on behalf of the poor lady."
"No, no, doctor, let it rest where it is. I don't acknowledge your right to repay what you don't owe, and perhaps I am none the worse off for what I did. Throw your bread on the waters, you know. My present visit has reference to the lady--as you call her one I will do the same--we picked out of the snow last night. Did you ever notice that things go in runs?"
"I don't quite follow you."
"A run of rainy weather, a run of fine weather, a run of good fortune, a run of ill fortune."
"I understand."
"You meet a person to-day whom you have never seen or heard of before. The odds are that you will meet that person to-morrow, and probably the next day as well. You begin to have bad cards, you go on having bad cards; you begin to make money, you go on making money."
"You infer that there are seasons of circumstances, as of weather. No doubt you are right."
"I know I am right. Making the acquaintance of your friend Mrs. Turner last night in a very extraordinary manner, I am not at all surprised that I have business in hand in which she is concerned. You look astonished, but it is true. You gave her a good character, doctor."
"Which she deserves. It happens in life to the best of us that we cannot avert misfortune. It is a visitor that does not knock at the door; it enters unannounced."
"We have unlocked the door ourselves, perhaps," suggested Mr. Moss sagely.