"But, my dear fellow——"
"You must walk at a smart pace for two hours," insisted the doctor. "And you must feed heartily."
"My dear fellow, I can hardly get through a cutlet for my lunch!" protested Floriot.
"I will let you off to-day, but from to-morrow on you must eat two," he continued firmly, as if he had not heard the interruption. Considering that luncheon was some eight hours in the past, this was not much of a concession.
"I shall never be able to do anything of the sort!" Floriot declared.
"Oh, yes, you will!" the doctor assured him with exasperating confidence. "On your way home every evening you must look in at the fencing school and fence for half-hour, take a cold shower and walk home."
"Walk! Out to Passy?"
"Out to Passy."
"My dear doctor," he smiled pityingly, "I can't possibly follow your prescription. I haven't the time."
"Then you must get married," returned the doctor calmly. Floriot gazed at him for a few moments in dumb amazement and then laughed amusedly.