“Not a bad guess,” said the young man with a grin. “Last boxes are enough to take the top of your head off. Try one.”
“Thank you,” was the reply, and a black-looking cigar was taken from the proffered case.
“Mind, I’ve told you they are roofers.”
“I can smoke a strong cigar,” said the Doctor, quietly.
“You can? Well, I can’t. Now then, mix up something; I want to be off.”
“There is no need to give you any medicine. Leave off beer and tobacco for a few days, and you will be all right.”
“But aren’t you going to give me any physic?”
“Not a drop.”
“Glad of it. But I say, the yokels down here won’t care for it if you don’t give them something.”
“I have found out that already. There, sir, I have given you the best advice I can.”