"I mean," replied Doctor Remy, composedly, "habits at once active, careless, and self-indulgent; such as riding or walking in the heat of the day, spending hours in the rice fields, rising early and sitting up late, eating ad libitum, and drinking ad infinitum."
The summary was too truthful, and the tone too professional, for the Major to retain his unreasonable anger. He merely asked,—"How do you know that I do these things?"
"By your looks."
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Major Bergan, with a scornful curl of the lip.
Doctor Remy smiled, with the calm unconcern of a man who knows his ground. "Your looks tell me more than that," said he.
"If they tell you anything but that I am well,—perfectly well,—they lie," answered the Major, bluntly.
"I am glad to hear it," replied Doctor Remy. "Doubtless, then, you sleep sound and soft."
"No, I don't," grumbled the Major, with unsuspecting frankness, "I sleep like a man tossed in a blanket."
"And probably you have pleasant dreams."
"On the contrary, a perfect Bedlam of furies and horrors."