He had not been sitting there for half-an-hour revolving the painful complexities of national life before the voice of Mrs. Petty recalled him from that sad reverie.
“Dr. Gobang to see you, sir.”
At sight of the doctor who had attended him for alcoholic poisoning Mr. Lavender experienced one or those vaguely disagreeable sensations which follow on half-realized insults.
“Good-morning, sir,” said the doctor; “thought I'd just look in and make my mind easy about you. That was a nasty attack. Do you still feel your back?”
“No,” said Mr. Lavender rather coldly, while Blink growled.
“Nor your head?”
“I have never felt my head,” replied Mr. Lavender, still more coldly.
“I seem to remember——” began the doctor.
“Doctor,” said Mr. Lavender with dignity, “surely you know that public men—do not feel—their heads—it would not do. They sometimes suffer from their throats, but otherwise they have perfect health, fortunately.”
The doctor smiled.