"Thank you, doctor. You are very kind."
"Let me put down your name," I said, taking down my tablets.
"My name is Philip Douglas."
I noted the name, and shortly left him.
I felt that in his critical condition he ought to have a nurse, but where was the money to come from to pay one?
"He is no common man," I reflected. "He has been rich. His personal surroundings do not fit him."
Somehow I had already come to feel an interest in my patient. There was something in his appearance that set me wondering what his past could have been.
"It must have been his misfortune, not his fault," I decided, for he bore no marks of dissipation.
Under favorable circumstances I felt that I could pull him through, but without careful attendance and generous living there was great doubt. What should I do? I decided to speak of his case to the Disagreeable Woman.