"May I see?" spoke the physician, with solicitude.
I put out my tongue very soberly.
Dr. Denton returned hastily to his chair.
"You spoke," I suggested, "in your note, of messages."
"Did I?" he returned, in a puzzled tone. "It must be my handwriting. No doctor writes intelligibly."
This was really too much. I beat with my fist upon the unoffending hammock, and asked, "Has your friend...?"
"Gone? Yes, very unfortunately. He had, as I reminded him, a pressing engagement in town. I, myself, took him to the train," concluded the aggravating creature proudly.
"How nice of you," I said heartily, "but you must miss him."
"Intolerably."
The duologue showed symptoms of declining again.