"I must own that I was not aware of the range of your accomplishments,"
Iris answered.
"Oh, don't talk of accomplishments! I learnt my profession in Paris.
For nigh on three years I lived among the French medical students.
Noticing this book on the table, I thought I would try whether I had
forgotten the language--in the time that has passed (you know) since
those days. Well, my memory isn't a good one in most things, but
strange to say (force of habit, I suppose), some of my French sticks by
me still. I hope I see you well, Miss Henley. Might I ask if you
noticed the new address, when I sent up my card?"
"I only noticed your name."
The doctor produced his pocket-book, and took out a second card. With
pride he pointed to the address: "5 Redburn Road, Hampstead Heath."
With pride he looked at his black clothes. "Strictly professional,
isn't it?" he said. "I have bought a new practice; and I have become a
new man. It isn't easy at first. No, by jingo--I beg your pardon--I was
about to say, my own respectability rather bothers me; I shall get used
to it in time. If you will allow me, I'll take a liberty. No offence, I
hope?"
He produced a handful of his cards, and laid them out in a neat little
semicircle on the table.
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