"Queen Anne's dead," said I.
"Has more than one patient."
"Has three. A man, or gentleman, and two children."
"Children?"
"Children. Prefers them. Less trouble. Besides, longer expectations with young 'uns. More time for them to grow old."
"True," said I. It will be observed that it was a speciality of Bob's to speak in short sentences.
"Man, or gentleman," continued Bob, "harmless. Gentle as a dove. Greengrocer's boy told me. Sees him sometimes. In the grounds. Pities him."
"How old is this poor gentleman, Bob?"
"Forty, perhaps. Forty-five, perhaps. Not more than fifty at the outside. Hair quite gray, but youngish face."
"Where is this private madhouse, Bob?"