Ogilvie removed his necktie, unbuttoned his shirt, and placed himself in the doctor’s hands.
Dr. Rashleigh made his examination without comment, slowly and carefully. At last it was over.
“Well?” said Ogilvie, just glancing at him. “It’s all right, I suppose.”
“It is not the custom for a doctor at an insurance office to tell his patient anything about the result of the examination,” was Rashleigh’s answer. “You’ll hear all in good time.”
“But there really is no time to lose, and you are an old friend. You look grave. If it cannot be done, of course it cannot, but I should like to know.”
“When do you propose to go to Australia?”
“I may not go at all. In fact if——” Ogilvie suddenly leaned against the table. Once again he felt faint and giddy. “If this is all right, I shall probably not go.”
“But suppose it is not all right?”
“Then I sail on Saturday.”