He began to move away.
"Honoré," said the doctor, following him a step, "I couldn't have made a mistake--It's the little Monk,--it's Aurora, isn't it?"
Honoré nodded, then faced his friend more directly, with a sudden new thought.
"But, Doctor, why not take your own advice? I know not how you are prevented; you have as good a right as Frowenfeld."
"It wouldn't be honest," said the doctor; "it wouldn't be the straight up and down manly thing."
"Why not?"
The doctor stepped into his gig--
"Not till I feel all right here." (In his chest.)