“If you are for Colonel Bishop's, I'll walk with you a little way, Doctor Blood,” said he. He was a short, broad man of five-and-forty with pendulous cheeks and hard blue eyes.
Peter Blood was startled. But he dissembled it.
“I am for Government House,” said he.
“Ah! To be sure! The Governor's lady.” And he laughed; or perhaps he sneered. Peter Blood was not quite certain. “She encroaches a deal upon your time, I hear. Youth and good looks, Doctor Blood! Youth and good looks! They are inestimable advantages in our profession as in others—particularly where the ladies are concerned.”
Peter stared at him. “If you mean what you seem to mean, you had better say it to Governor Steed. It may amuse him.”
“You surely misapprehend me.”
“I hope so.”
“You're so very hot, now!” The doctor linked his arm through Peter's. “I protest I desire to be your friend—to serve you. Now, listen.” Instinctively his voice grew lower. “This slavery in which you find yourself must be singularly irksome to a man of parts such as yourself.”
“What intuitions!” cried sardonic Mr. Blood. But the doctor took him literally.
“I am no fool, my dear doctor. I know a man when I see one, and often I can tell his thoughts.”