They did not take her to a hospital, because there was a round little man at the stall who prevented them from doing so. "Lemme alone," the lady had remarked, upon regaining speech. "Don’t you worry me. I’m all right, I am. I got my doctor ’ere: this genelman in the top ’at. Ain’t that right, sir? You are my doctor, ain’t you?" "That is so," said the round little man, "I’m her doctor. Shift your dam carcases and give the woman some air." "There you are," gasped the woman, "what did I tell you? He _is_ my doctor. I got ’is confinement card in me pocket this minute." "She can’t stop ’ere you know, Dr. Brink," expostulated a constable. "I’ll take her home," said the round man. "Be a lot better in the ’orspital," muttered the constable. "I’m obliged for your opinion, officer; but I think I’ll have my own way _this_ time. Catch hold of her middle, will you, Sonny?" It was your servant who had the honour to be addressed as Sonny, and he hastened to do the little round man’s bidding. When we had got the lady into a perpendicular attitude, the doctor put his arm about her, and, anticipating the little man’s commands, your servant did the same. And so we led her from the stall, all the cut-throats of Bovingdon Street following reverently behind us. Happily our march was not a long one, for the patient lived in Smith Street; and Smith Street, as everybody knows, is the second turning past the African Chief beer-house in Bovingdon Street. Short as the journey was, however, I could have wished it to be shorter: for the cut-throats pressed us close, breathing thickly about our ears; and the woman weighed heavy, having no manner of use for her legs and being stupid in the head. She only spoke once during the walk, and that was to say, in a drowsy sort of monotone: "’E done it—in drink." We came at last to 13, Smith Street, and the fact that eighteen eager faces were already distributed among the six small windows of that dwelling-house removed my latent fears that our arrival would disturb "the neighbours." The owners of these faces were entirely mute, save for one, an elderly woman, who, in a loud wail, made certain representations to Providence in regard to one ’Erry Barber, whom I understood to be the lusty gallant primarily responsible for this adventure. Having repeated these commands a great number of times, and having exercised undoubted talent in describing ’Erry and ’Erry’s parentage, the old woman proceeded to chronicle her views respecting a vast number of alien subjects. At last this lady had the great misfortune to "catch her breath," at which the doctor cut in. "Stop that beastly noise!" he shouted, "and shut the window, and put on a respectable garment, and come downstairs and let us in." The lady looked benignly down upon us. "Go’ bless ye, doctor," she exclaimed, "you are a good man. But you didn’t ought to talk like that to _me_. I lorst a son in the Bower war."