"Not so long," replied the man.... "You lie still, ole Emma." She sighed, very slowly. And I noticed that a hummock of shawl was caught up close beneath her arm. *XXXII* *LOW FINANCE* He was a self-complacent, ox-voiced man, and being clothed on with his Sunday blacks, he looked objectionable. He surged into Dr. Brink’s consulting-room all frothy and foamy with fellowship. "Evenin’, Doc.," he gurgled. ’"Ow’s yeself?" "Let me see your tongue?" said the doctor, who was tired and absent-minded. This was the ninety-seventh tongue which he had clamoured for that day: a fact which perhaps accounted for the absence from his manner of that sympathetic and anecdotal touch which distinguishes those learned men who follow the reputable or credit branch of his profession. "It ain’t about meself I’ve come, ole man," explained the visitor. "Leastways," he added, with an air as of scrupulous exactitude, "it ain’t about me present self. I come to thank you for all your goodness to me during my accident." The doctor responded with a wondering stare. "I come to thank you for all your goodness to me, Doc.," repeated the man. "And," he added, as one giving utterance to a careless afterthought, "to see about my little bill." "When did I attend you?" demanded the doctor. "When did you attend me?" repeated the patient reproachfully. "Why, you attended me twice. I am that serious driving accident what you was called in to look at four weeks ago. And I bin round to see you once since then." "Serious driving accident," mused the doctor. Then—with an acid smile—"I think I remember now. The accident suddenly showed itself in your shoulder, didn’t it, five days after the occurrence? And I couldn’t find the place, could I? Not even a bruise." "It was very painful, Doctor," explained the invalid; "one of them inward bruises. They do say as that’s the worst sort o’ damage as kin ’appen to a man, getting a inward bruise, same’s what I did. I bin layed up fower weeks ’long o’ that accident." "And it took five days to mature. Ever heard of a disease called ’afterthought’?" "Can’t say rightly as I ’ave," admitted the sufferer. "It is a curious sort of complaint," the doctor explained; "attacks a man very often in cases like this. Quite small things aggravate it, too; talkative friends, for example." "Will you make the bill out, Doctor?" requested the victim of this strange ailment. "No need for a bill, is there?" said the doctor. "I can tell you what you owe me out of hand. One visit to your house, one consultation here: total, eighteenpence." "I’d prefer a proper invoice, Doctor," admitted the maimed one. "And look ’ere, ole man, make it out fur a sovereign, will ye? I ... I want to show it to my firm." "With pleasure," said the doctor. "Have you brought the sovereign with you?" "Eh?" snapped the man.