Doctor Hartley looked at him, looked away, and looked at him again.
"I don't doubt your friendship for Mr. Armine," he said, at last, laying a faint stress upon the penultimate word.
"Will you let me discuss the case amicably with you? No formal consultation! Just let me hear your views fully, and mention anything that occurs to me."
"Occurs? But you haven't examined the patient. You haven't made any thorough examination, or entered into the circumstances of the case."
"No. But I've seen the patient."
"Only for a very few minutes, I understand. How can you have formed a definite opinion?"
"I did not say I had. But one or two things struck me."
Doctor Hartley stared with his handsome, round eyes.
"For instance, the patient's sallow colour, the patient's rheumatic pains, the patient's breath, and—did you happen to observe it? But no doubt you did!—the patient's dropped wrist."
The young doctor's face had become more serious. He looked much less conscious of himself at this moment.