"A fall, I believe you say, monsieur!" he said.
"Yes, a fall. He struck his head against the angle of that doorway."
Mr. Granger omitted to state that it was a blow between the eyes from his clenched fist which had felled George Fairfax—a blow sent straight out from the powerful shoulder.
"There was no seizure—no fit of any kind, I hope?"
"No."
The patient had recovered himself considerably by this time, and twitched his wrist rather impatiently from the little doctor's timid grasp.
"I am well enough now," he said in a thick voice. "There was no occasion to send for a medical man. I stumbled at the doorway yonder, and knocked my head in falling—that's all."
The Frenchman was manipulating Mr. Fairfax's cranium with cautious fingers.
"There is a considerable swelling at the back of the skull," he said. "But there appears to have been another blow on the forehead. There is a puffiness, and a slight abrasion of the skin."
Mr. Fairfax extricated his head from this investigation by standing up suddenly out of reach of the small doctor. He staggered a little as he rose to his feet, but recovered himself after a moment or so, and stood firmly enough, with his hand resting on the back of the chair.