CHAPTER III.
DOCTORS TO THE RESCUE!
Just as he reached the door it was opened. A very tall, and very stout, old gentleman entered. He had a black bag in his hand. But he did not seem to be the least in a hurry.
"Good evening. I trust there is nothing serious the matter."
I suppose that in the agitated state of his nervous system, the stranger's sudden appearance took Hughes by surprise. He stared at him as though he were a ghost.
"Are--are you the doctor?"
"I am the doctor--Dr. Goldsmith."
I had already recognised him as the doctor who lived at the corner of the square. Although I had not the pleasure of his personal acquaintance, I had more than once wondered why he did not try Banting. Leaving off sugar, and butter, and milk, and trying a piece of lemon in your tea, is an excellent method of reducing the flesh. He looked round the room, and bowed--a little vaguely. Then he said, addressing Hughes, whom he apparently took to be the master of the house, "Where is the patient?"
"They're--they're all patients."
This answer seemed to cause the doctor to experience a slight sense of mystification. He placed a pair of gold glasses upon the bridge of his nose. He cast another glance around the room.