The doctor produced his watch. In less than a minute he put it
away.

"This is quite unnecessary," he pronounced. "Your pulse is
wonderful."

"Not hurried? No signs of palpitation?"

"You have seven or eight footmen, all young men," Doctor Sarson
replied drily. "I will wager that there isn't one of them has a
pulse so vigorous as yours."

Mr. Fentolin leaned a little back in his chair. An expression of
satisfaction crept over his face.

"You reassure me, my dear Sarson. That is excellent. What of our
patient?"

"There is no change."

"I am afraid," Mr. Fentolin sighed, "that we shall have trouble
with him. These strong people always give trouble."

"It will be just the same in the long run," the doctor remarked,
shrugging his shoulders.

Mr. Fentolin held up his finger.

"Listen! A motor-car, I believe?"