“Sooner or later,” began the Doctor, settling himself comfortably in his chair, “it comes to most of us. Sooner or later a man or a woman comes to consult us on what they imagine to be some trifling malady, and when we make our examination we find that it isn’t trifling. And occasionally we find that not only is the matter not trifling, but that—well, you all have seen Collier’s picture, ‘The Sentence of Death.’
“It’s a thing, incidentally, which requires careful thought—just how much you will tell. Different people take things different ways, and where it might be your duty to tell one man the half-truth, to another it might be just as much your duty to lie. But broadly speaking, I, personally, have always maintained that, unless the circumstances are quite exceptional, it is a doctor’s duty to tell a patient the truth, however unpleasant it may be. What would a man say if his lawyer or his stockbroker lied to him?
“Which brings me to the opening of my story. It was in the May before the War that a man came into my consulting-room—a man whom I will call Jack Digby. I motioned him to a chair on the other side of my desk, so placed that the light from the window fell on his face. I put him down as a man of about three-and-thirty who was used to an outdoor life. His face was bronzed, his hands were sunburnt, and the whole way he carried himself—the set of his shoulders, the swing of his arms as he walked across the room—indicated the athlete in good condition. In fact, he was an unusual type to find in a Harley Street consulting-room, and I told him so by way of opening the conversation.
“He grinned, a very pleasant, cheery grin, and put his hat on the floor.
“ ‘Just a matter of form, Doctor,’ he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. ‘I’m thinking of entering for the matrimonial stakes, and before saddling-up I thought I’d just get you to certify me sound in wind and limb.’
“Now he spoke very easily and naturally, but something—I don’t quite know what—made me look at him a little more closely. The study of human nature is a vital necessity if the study of human ailments is to be successful—and one gets plenty of opportunity for it if one is a consulting physician. And I suddenly wondered if it was ‘just a matter of form’ in his mind. The ordinary young, healthy man doesn’t usually take the trouble to be overhauled by a doctor merely because he is going to be married.
“However, at that stage of the proceedings my thoughts were my own, and I answered him in the same vein. And while he was taking off his coat and shirt we talked casually on various topics. Then I started my examination. And within half a minute I knew that something was very, very wrong.
“ ‘I would like you to take off your vest, please, Mr. Digby,’ I said, and for a moment he stared at me in silence. I was watching him quietly, and it was then I knew that my first surmise was correct. In his eyes there was a look of dreadful fear.
“He stripped his vest off, and I continued my examination. And after I’d finished I walked over to my desk.