Presently the doctor entered, a somewhat formal, gray, middle-aged man, with a hesitating manner which had grown upon him in the constant effort to avoid hurting the susceptibilities of patients who asked awkward questions which he was unwilling to answer.
"Ah, you come from Mr. Vickars? Nothing wrong, I hope?"
"No, doctor. I left him asleep."
The doctor nodded and waited.
"I came to ask you a question, doctor."
"Yes."
"It's about Vickars. I want to know the cause of his illness. I have a good reason for asking."
"The cause? Well, you see, Vickars had been run down for a long time before he became ill. He had probably worked too hard for years. That meant a certain devitalisation, which made him susceptible to fever."
"And is that all?"
"Well, not altogether, of course. There is still the question of the fever itself."