He greeted him warmly.
"You will agree with me, I think, that it is a most remarkable occurrence," said the vicar, when they eventually visited George, who sat in the library staring at a bookcase.
"I do," said Cattermole, laconically.
The vicar continued to pour forth his opinions, and relate instances of cases he had known, during which harangue George managed to apprise his friend of the state of affairs by a most unmistakable wink. Being thus informed, Cattermole became more amiable, and begged a private interview with the patient for a special examination.
"I think he will agree with me, my dear," said the vicar to his daughter; "he is one of the most enlightened men I have ever met, and one of the few who seemed to attach any weight to my opinion."
"He didn't say much, pa."
"It is not what he said, my dear; it's the way he looked and listened. You don't understand clever men as I do."
A quarter of an hour elapsed, and Cattermole left the library.
"It is shock," he said quietly.
"As I thought," said the vicar.