Her husband shook his head. "You go and fetch the doctor," he said,
slowly. "That new one round the corner."

"He looks such a boy," objected Mrs. Scutts.

"You go and fetch 'im," said Mr. Scutts, raising his voice. "D'ye
hear!"

"But--" began his wife.

"If I get up to you, my gal," said the forgetful Mr. Scutts, "you'll
know it."

"Why, I thought--" said his wife, in surprise.

Mr. Scutts raised himself on the sofa and shook his fist at her. Then,
as a tribute to appearances, he sank back and groaned again. Mrs.
Scutts, looking somewhat relieved, took her bonnet from a nail and
departed.

The examination was long and tedious, but Mr. Scutts, beyond remarking
that he felt chilly, made no complaint. He endeavoured, but in vain, to
perform the tests suggested, and even did his best to stand, supported
by his medical attendant. Self-preservation is the law of Nature, and
when Mr. Scutts's legs and back gave way he saw to it that the doctor
was underneath.

"We'll have to get you up to bed," said the latter, rising slowly and
dusting himself.