He
would not admit a change that might make his friend again fall into the
absurd dissatisfaction which he had combated on the night of their first
sitting in the tent-room. While they talked the afternoon had fallen into
a creeping twilight. In the twilight the front door bell rang.
"Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door," Valentine
said, quoting Poe. "It must be the doctor."
Julian reddened suddenly.
"I hope not," he said.
"What?" Valentine cried. "You don't want our little doctor?"
"Somehow not--to-day."
The door opened and Doctor Levillier entered. Valentine greeted him
warmly. They had not met since the night of the affray with the mastiffs.
In Julian's manner there was a touch of awkwardness as he shook hands
with the doctor. Levillier did not seem to notice it. He looked very
tired and rather depressed.
"Cresswell," he said, "I have come to you for a tonic."
"Doctor coming to patient!"
"Doctors take medicine oftener than you may suppose. I'm in bad spirits
to-day. I've been trying to cure too many people lately. It's hard work."
"It must be. Sit down and forget. Imagine the world beautifully incurable
and your occupation consequently gone."
The doctor sat down, saying:
"My imagination stops short at that feat.
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