“Sick or well, sane or insane, it's always the same story. His only theme is himself.”
“Beattie was struck with the profound things and the witty things he said throughout all his rambling. He said that the intellect was never actually overthrown, that it only tottered.”
“What rot! as if he knew anything about it! These fellows talk of a man's brain as if it was the ankle-joint. Was there any question of a will?”
“Yes. He made Beattie take a will out of his writing-desk; and he erased the name of Lendrick in every part of it. Beattie and he had some angry words together, but that was before he was raving; and I heard Sir William tell him, 'Sir, you are neither my priest nor my lawyer; and if your skill as a doctor be only on a par with your tact as a friend, my recovery is all but hopeless.'”
“That probably was one of the profound or witty things the doctor was so delighted with.”
“Dr. Beattie took nothing addressed to himself in ill part.”
“No; that's part of medical education. These fellows begin life as such 'cads,' they never attain to the feeling of being gentlemen.”
There was not light enough for Sewell to see the scornful curl of his wife's lip at this speech; but in the little short cough by which she suppressed her temptation to reply, he noted her indignation.
“I know he's one of your especial favorites, Madam,” said he, harshly; “but even that gives him no immunity with me.”
“I 'm sure I could never think it would.”