It seemed to Winn as if he had never been so knocked about before. Dr. Gurnet pounced upon him and went over him inch by inch; he reminded Winn of nothing so much as of an excited terrier hunting up and down a bank for a rat-hole. Eventually Dr. Gurnet found his rat. He went back to his chair, sat down heavily, and looked at Winn. For rather an ominous moment he was silent; then he said politely:
"Of course I suppose you are aware, Major Staines, of what you have done with your very excellent chances?"
Winn shook his head doubtfully. He hadn't, as a matter of fact, thought much lately about these particular chances.
"Ah," said Dr. Gurnet, "then I regret to inform you that you have simply walked through them—or, in your case, I should be inclined to imagine, tobogganed—and you have come out the other side. You haven't got any chances now."
Winn did not say anything for a moment or two; then he observed:
"I'm afraid I've rather wasted your time."
"Pray don't mention it," said Dr. Gurnet. "It is so small a thing compared with what you have done with your own."
Winn laughed.
"You rather have me there," he admitted; "I suppose I have been rather an ass."
"My dear fellow," said Dr. Gurnet, more kindly, "I'm really annoyed about this, extremely annoyed. I had booked you to get well. I expected it. What have you been doing with yourself? You've broken down that right lung badly; the infection has spread to the left. It was not the natural progress of the disease, which was in process of being checked; it is owing to a very great and undue physical strain, and absolutely no attempt to take precautions after it. Also you have, I should say, complicated this by a great nervous shock."