CHAPTER XVIII. PROFESSIONAL ASSISTANCE
NUMBER Five was near the centre of the row of little suburban houses called Redburn Road.
When the cab drew up at the door Mr. Vimpany himself was visible, looking out of the window on the ground floor—and yawning as he looked. Iris beckoned to him impatiently. "Anything wrong?" he asked, as he approached the door of the cab. She drew back, and silently showed him what was wrong. The doctor received the shock with composure. When he happened to be sober and sad, looking for patients and failing to find them, Mr. Vimpany's capacity for feeling sympathy began and ended with himself.
"This is a new scrape, even for Lord Harry," he remarked. "Let's get him into the house."
The insensible man was carried into the nearest room on the ground floor. Pal
