"Nine, sir."
Dr. Spenlove put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and quickly withdrew it, with a smile of humour and self-pity. The landlady noticed the action, and dolefully shook her head.
"Very anxious to see me, you say, Mrs. Radcliffe."
"Very anxious indeed, sir. Dear, dear, you're wet through!"
"It is a bitter night," he said, coughing.
"You may well say that, sir. Bad weather for you to be out, with that nasty cough of yours."
"There are many people worse off than I am, without either fire or food."
"We all have our trials, sir. It's a hard world."
"Indeed, indeed!" he said, thinking of the female patient whom he had last visited.
"Where's your overcoat, sir? I'll take it down to the kitchen; it'll dry sooner there." She looked around in vain for it.