"What do you think of her?" "I think that she is very charming--and, M. Stainton, very young." It struck Jim that the concluding phrase had been weighted with significance. "I don't know just how to tell you," he resumed. "I don't like to talk even to my physician of--of certain intimate matters; but"--he glanced at the most conspicuous volumes on the nearest shelf--"from the titles of these books, I think that what I want to see you about falls within the limits of your specialty." He stopped, gnawing his lower lip, his mind seeking phrases. Before he could find a suitable one, his vis-a-vis, looking him straight in the eyes, had settled the matter: "My friend, there are but two reasons why one that is no fool should drink absinthe at an hour so greatly early: or he has been guilty of excess and regrets, or he has been unable to be guilty and regrets." He paused, his face thrust half across the desk. "Madame," he demanded, "she is how old?" Stainton met him bravely now, but in a manner clearly showing his anxiety to protect himself. "She is nearly nineteen." "Eighteen, _bien_. And you?" Jim drew back. He took a long breath; his fingers held tightly to the arms of his chair. "Before I married," he said, "only a very short time before I married, I had myself looked over carefully by one of the most eminent physicians in New York. He assured me that I was in perfect physical condition, that I was not by any means an old man, that, as a matter of fact----" Boussingault thumped the desk with his forefinger. "Poof, poof! I do not ask of your heart, your liver, your _biceps flexor_. How many years are you alive?" "Doctor," said Stainton, "I don't think you quite understand----" "I understand well what I want to know. Are you married a long time?" "On the contrary." "And your age?" Stainton realised that it must be foolishly feminine longer to fence. "Fifty," he belligerently declared. Dr. Boussingault leaned back, spread wide his arms, and smiled. "_Vous voila!_" "But, doctor, wait a moment. You don't understand----" "My friend, if you understand these things more well than do I, why is it that you come to me? A man of fifty, he but recently marries a girl of eighteen----" "But I have lived a careful life!" "We all do. I have never known a drunkard; all of my drunkards, they are moderate drinkers." "I drink no more than you." "I was not speaking literally, monsieur." "I have lived in the open air," said Jim. "La-la-la!" "And I have been abstemious. You understand me now: absolutely abstemious." It was obvious that Boussingault doubted this, but he made a valiant effort to speak as if he did not. "If Jacques never has drunk," said he, "brandy will poison him." Stainton rose. "I am as sound as a bell," he vowed. Boussingault did not rise. He only leaned back the farther and smiled the more knowingly. "Yet you are here," said he.