"How do you think that my presence
could have hurt you?"
"I'll tell you frankly, old chap," said he, putting
on suddenly that sort of forced smile which always seems
to me to have a touch of a sneer in it. "You see,
many of my patients are simple country folk, half
imbecile for the most part, but then the half-crown of an
imbecile is as good as any other half-crown. They come
to my door, and they see two names, and their silly jaws
begin to drop, and they say to each other, `There's two
of 'em here. It's Dr. Cullingworth we want to see, but
if we go in we'll be shown as likely as not to Dr.
Munro.' So it ends in some cases in their not coming at
all. Then there are the women. Women don't care a toss
whether you are a Solomon, or whether you are hot from an
asylum. It's all personal with them. You fetch them, or
you don't fetch them. I know how to work them, but they
won't come if they think they are going to be turned over
to anybody else. That's what I put the falling away down
to."
"Well," said I, "that's easily set right." I marched
out of the room and downstairs, with both Cullingworth
and his wife behind me. Into the yard I went, and,
picking up a big hammer, I started for the front door,
with the pair still at my heels. I got the forked end of
the hammer under my plate, and with a good wrench I
brought the whole thing clattering on to the
pavement.
"That won't interfere with you any more," said I.
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