Prev | Current Page 133 | Next

Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Beyond the City"

Oh, dear, dear,
what is this I hear?"
"What is it then?" asked the Admiral coolly.
"Tut! tut! This is a great pity. Have you had rheumatic fever?"
"Never."
"You have had some serious illness?"
"Never."
"Ah, you are an admiral. You have been abroad, tropics, malaria, ague--
I know."
"I have never had a day's illness."
"Not to your knowledge; but you have inhaled unhealthy air, and it has
left its effect. You have an organic murmur--slight but distinct."
"Is it dangerous?"
"It might at anytime become so. You should not take violent exercise."
"Oh, indeed. It would hurt me to run a half mile?"
"It would be very dangerous."
"And a mile?"
"Would be almost certainly fatal."
"Then there is nothing else the matter?"
"No. But if the heart is weak, then everything is weak, and the life is
not a sound one."
"You see, Admiral," remarked Mr. Metaxa, as the doctor secreted his
stethoscope once more in his hat, "my remarks were not entirely uncalled
for. I am sorry that the doctor's opinion is not more favorable, but
this is a matter of business, and certain obvious precautions must be
taken."
"Of course. Then the matter is at an end."
"Well, we might even now do business.


Pages:
121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145