The doctor was so taken aback by his friend’s onslaught that he shook his head vigorously.
“Well, suppose we say Now that Mrs Bolter is away?” said the Resident, smiling.
“Hadn’t we better drop that line of argument?” said the doctor, uneasily. “Really, Harley, you know, it’s too bad—’pon my honour it is. It isn’t gentlemanly!”
“My dear Bolter,” began the Resident.
“There are private matters!” cried the doctor, fuming, “upon which no man ought to touch, and my domestic relations are of that kind!”
“I should not have spoken,” said the Resident, “only you—a man who can do as he likes about going out collecting—came to me with such a weak piece of sham by way of excuse for your actions, Doctor, I blush for you!”
“Well, come, I will be honest with you; I am going out collecting and exploring.”
“Of course you are. I knew.”
“Stop a moment,” exclaimed the doctor, “let me finish. I should not go, only the idea occurred to me that I might perhaps get upon the track of that poor girl! If I do, I shall follow it to the end.”
The Resident said something in a hasty, indistinct tone, and the doctor stared at him, quite startled by his manner.