"But I don't matter," said Geoffrey.
"Not the least scrap. Really, it is too provoking getting it again. I believe every doctor in Wimpole Street has seen me through at least one attack. I shall begin on Cavendish Square soon. Now talk."
The thought of Dr. Armytage and the strange confusion of names and addresses had often been present in Geoffrey's mind since he and Harry had made that short and inconclusive expedition to number 32 Wimpole Street, and here, perhaps, was an opportunity for adding a brick to that vague structure that was in outline only in his mind.
"Have you tried Dr. Godfrey?" he asked.
"I never heard of him. Otherwise I should have tried him. Where does he live?"
"It is not quite certain," said Geoffrey; "personally I believe at 32 Wimpole Street."
"Is this supposed to be bright and engaging conversation?" asked Lady Oxted, "which will interest the depressed influenza patient?"
"It may interest you in time," said Geoffrey. "To continue, have you ever heard of a Dr. G. Armytage, heart specialist, of 32 Wimpole Street?"
The effect of this was instantaneous. Lady Oxted sat up on her sofa, and her shawl whisked the temperature thermometer to the ground, smashing the ball.