.

"Yes, I shall. May I smoke?"

"Certainly--certainly."

A very large, well-filled cigar case was already in the visitor's hands.

"Take one."

"No, thanks. I never smoke."

"Never mind, Hendon does. Here, I shall leave those six for him."

"I really would rather you did not, Poynter; indeed I would."

"Get out? What's the good of having these things if some one else don't
enjoy 'em too? Make Hendon a bit more civil to me. He is so jolly--so
jolly--what do you call it?--soopercilious with me. Because I'm not a
doctor, I suppose. There's half a dozen good ones for him when he comes
in. Now then, doctor, go ahead. Want to see my tongue?"

"No--no," said the doctor; "the look of your eye is sufficient, Mr
Poynter. It is much clearer. Felt any more of the chest symptoms?"

"No, not so much of them; but I don't sleep as I should: feverish and
tossy--spend half my nights punching my pillow."

"Have you given up the suppers?"

"Well, not quite. You see a man can't drop everything. I know a lot of
men, and one's obliged, you see, to do as they do. But now look here;
doctor. You've been treating me these three months."

"Dear me! is it so long as that?"

"More. You've poked my chest about, and listened to my works, and given
me all sorts of stuff to take, and told me to eat this and drink that,
and now I suppose you think I'm sound, wind and limb?"

"Certainly, my dear sir, certainly. I told you so at the first, and
that no treatment was necessary."

"Yes, yes, all right; but I'd got to be a bit nervous doctor, and now,
as I say, you think me sound, wind and limb?"

"Quite."

"Then you'll agree, won't you?"

"Agree?" said the doctor, looking over the glasses he had put on when
commencing to be professional.

"Yes. I'm as good a man as there is at Mincing Lane over a tea bargain;
but a job like this knocks the wind out of me, makes me feel a damaged
lot where the sea-water's got in, or a Maloo mixture. Can't do it: but
you understand."

"Really, Mr Poynter, I--"

"Now don't run away, doctor; don't, please. I'm a warm man, and I'm
getting warmer. My house is tip-top. I gave two-fifty for the piano, I
did, 'pon my soul, and fifty apiece for the cut-glass chandies in the
drawing-room. There ain't a better garden in Sydenham. You're willing,
ain't you?"

"Do you mean--"

"Yes, that's it. Say the word. There, I've loved her ever since I
first saw her. And situated as you are