“My patients must go elsewhere,” said North slowly. “I cannot see anybody.”
“Don’t think I am moved by curiosity; but are you sure that you are doing what is best for yourself?”
“Quite sure. Let me cure myself my own way, and—and—”
“Well—what, old fellow?” said Salis, for the doctor had ceased speaking.
“Don’t take any notice of what I say at times. I’ve—I’ve been working a little too hard, and—at times—”
“Yes, at times?”
“I feel a little delirious, and say things I should not say at other times—times I say, at other times.”
There was a singularity in his utterance, and his repetitions, which struck Salis; and these broken sentences were strange even to the verge of being terrible, coming as they did out of the darkness before him.
“Oh, yes; I understand,” he hastened to say cheerfully. “I know, old fellow. Want a wet towel about your head and rest.”
“Yes—and rest,” said North quietly.