"You'll practise again this year?" asked Wright of Bill, as the car drove off, and I heard my husband answer,
"That depends very much on Mavis."
"Is he to poetize or administer pills?" asked Wright, turning to me.
"Both, I hope," I answered casually. "Good doctors may not be as rare as good poets, but the combination is remarkable."
"I should think," said Mercedes, with candour, "that you would be awfully jealous...."
"Grateful lady patients?" asked Wright.
She nodded.
"I've not had the opportunity yet," I answered. "Since I've known him Bill hasn't had many patients except me—"
"Quite a serious case," remarked Wright solemnly, "one that demands incessant medical attention."
Bill laughed.