“‘I’m in consumption,’ I said laconically, rising from my seat.
“He jumped up, too.
“‘Perhaps you are exaggerating—if you were to take proper measures perhaps—”
“He was terribly confused and did not seem able to collect his scattered senses; the pocket-book was still in his left hand.
“‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ I said. ‘Dr. B—— saw me last week’ (I lugged him in again), ‘and my hash is quite settled; pardon me—’ I took hold of the door-handle again. I was on the point of opening the door and leaving my grateful but confused medical friend to himself and his shame, when my damnable cough got hold of me again.
“My doctor insisted on my sitting down again to get my breath. He now said something to his wife who, without leaving her place, addressed a few words of gratitude and courtesy to me. She seemed very shy over it, and her sickly face flushed up with confusion. I remained, but with the air of a man who knows he is intruding and is anxious to get away. The doctor’s remorse at last seemed to need a vent, I could see.
“‘If I—’ he began, breaking off abruptly every other moment, and starting another sentence. ‘I—I am so very grateful to you, and I am so much to blame in your eyes, I feel sure, I—you see—’ (he pointed to the room again) ‘at this moment I am in such a position—’
“‘Oh!’ I said, ‘there’s nothing to see; it’s quite a clear case—you’ve lost your post and have come up to make explanations and get another, if you can!’
“‘How do you know that?’ he asked in amazement.
“‘Oh, it was evident at the first glance,’ I said ironically, but not intentionally so. ‘There are lots of people who come up from the provinces full of hope, and run about town, and have to live as best they can.’