"Now, my dear sir, that we are alone," began he blandly.
"Now, sir!" answered Vavasour, springing off the sofa, his whole pent-up wrath exploding in hissing steam, the moment the safety-valve was lifted. "Now, sir! What—what is the meaning of this insolence, this intrusion?"
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Vavasour," answered Tom, rising, in a tone of bland and stolid surprise.
"What do you want here, with your mummery and medicine, when you know the cause of my malady well enough already? Go, sir! and leave me to myself."
"My dear sir," said Tom firmly, "you seem to have forgotten what passed between us this morning."
"Will you insult me beyond endurance?" cried Elsley.
"I told you that, as long as you chose, you were Elsley Vavasour, and I the country doctor. We have met in that character. Why not sustain it? You are really ill; and if I know the cause, I am all the more likely to know the cure."
"Cure?"
"Why not? Believe me, it is in your power to become a much happier man, simply by becoming a healthier one."
"Impertinence!"