"Oh, rather!"
"I'm a fool, and a damned fool," Antony announced solemnly. "And a damned fool," he said again under his breath, as he led Bill away from the poster, and out of the yard into the road. "And a damned fool. Even now—" He broke off and then asked suddenly, "Did Mark ever have much trouble with his teeth?"
"He went to his dentist a good deal. But what on earth—"
Antony laughed a third time.
"What luck!" he chuckled. "But how do you know?"
"We go to the same man; Mark recommended him to me. Cartwright, in Wimpole Street."
"Cartwright in Wimpole Street," repeated Antony thoughtfully. "Yes, I can remember that. Cartwright in Wimpole Street. Did Cayley go to him too, by any chance?"
"I expect so. Oh, yes, I know he did. But what on earth—"
"What was Mark's general health like? Did he see a doctor much?"
"Hardly at all, I should think. He did a lot of early morning exercises which were supposed to make him bright and cheerful at breakfast. They didn't do that, but they seemed to keep him pretty fit. Tony, I wish you'd—"
Antony held up a hand and hushed him into silence.
