Stalking into the sitting-room he said without preamble: "In my opinion
any further delay will mean a risk to my wife. I request you to operate
immediately."
Rogers blinked up from his cards, surprise writ across his ruddy
countenance. He pushed his spectacles to his forehead. "Eh? What? Well,
well . . . yes, the time is no doubt coming when we shall have to lend
Mother Nature a hand."
"Coming? It's come . . . and gone. Are you blind, man?"
Rogers had faced many an agitated husband in his day. "Now, now, Mr.
Mahony," he said soothingly, and laid his last two cards in line. "You
must allow me to be the judge of that. Besides," he added, as he took
off his glasses to polish them on a red bandanna; "besides, I should
have to ask you to go out and get some one to assist me."
"I shall assist you," returned Mahony.
Rogers smiled his broad, fat smile. "Easier said than done, my good sir!
. . . easier said than done."
Mahony considerately turned his back; and kept it turned. Emptying a
pitcher of water into a basin he began to lather his hands. "I am a
qualified medical man. Of the same university as yourself. I studied
under Simpson." It cost him an effort to get the words out. But, by
speaking, he felt that he did ample penance for the fit of tetchy pride
which, in the first instance, had tied his tongue.
Rogers was dumbfounded.
"Well, upon my word!" he ejaculated, letting his hands with glasses and
handkerchief fall to the table.
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