“Were you a foundling, sir?” said the Specialist sharply.
“Not that I know of,” replied his guest. “The fact is that I have come to see you because....”
The large, dried hand went up again.
“One moment. We must get things clear to begin with. In these cases of nervous trouble—I am speaking frankly—it is essential to put things in the right order to the patient, or the whole consultation fails of its purpose.”
Mr. Petre nodded, and accepted. He saw that he was not believed.
“Now, sir,” continued the Specialist, “since I must accept what you say” (it was pretty clear that he did not), “I can only ask you questions which are within your own knowledge. Have you (you will excuse my direct question?) have you, to your knowledge, any taint?”
“Any what?” said Mr. Petre anxiously.
“Taint—alcoholic, for instance?”
Mr. Petre thought for a moment, and answered, “No. At any rate, I should doubt it.”
“What are your habits in the matter of—ah!—wine?”