“Quite so, but you will excuse my professional instinct—and I am giving you my services for nothing, if you will let me—I notice signs of nerve exhaustion—Let’s look at your tongue.”
Jones put out his tongue.
“Not bad,” said Simms. “Now just cross your legs.”
Jones crossed his legs, right over left, and Simms, standing before him, gave him a little sharp tap just under the right knee cap. The leg flew out.
Jones laughed.
“Exaggerated patella reflex,” said Simms. “Nerve fag, nothing more. A pill or two is all you want. You don’t notice any difficulty in speech?”
“Not much,” said Jones, laughing.
“Say—‘Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.’”
“‘Peter Peter piped a pick—’” began Jones, then he laughed.
“You can’t say it,” said Simms, cocking a wise eyebrow.