That is how I discovered that I was the possessor of a heart murmur. By putting my hand on the spot under which I had been taught, and still believed, my heart to be, I felt rather than heard a distinct burbling.
I went to the telephone and fixed up an appointment with a specialist.
"It's only a murmur now," I said when I reached the consulting-room, "only a mere whisper, but——"
The doctor tapped me vigorously. Being very absent-minded I said, "Come in," the first time.
"You were rejected for this, I suppose?" he said.
"No, cow-hocked or spavined, I forget which," I said. "This hadn't started then."
The rite was quite a lengthy one, and at the conclusion the heartsmith said, "M—yes, there is a slight murmuring, certainly."
He wrote me out a prescription, and I felt the murmur myself distinctly when parting with three of the greater Bradburys and three shillings.
On the way home I ran into Beatrice.
"Well, old thing," she said, "what's the matter? I saw you coming out of Dr. Cox's."