He did not precipitate himself upon the door. With
beating heart he retained his presence of mind, and said to himself that
of course it could not possibly be a client. Even dentists who bought a
practice ready-made never had a client on their first day. He heard the
attendant answer the ring, and then he heard the attendant saying, "I'll
see, sir."
It was, in fact, a patient. The servant, having asked Mr Cowlishaw if Mr
Cowlishaw was at liberty, introduced the patient to the Presence, and
the Presence trembled.
The patient was a tall, stiff, fair man of about thirty, with a tousled
head and inelegant but durable clothing. He had a drooping moustache,
which prevented Mr Cowlishaw from adding his teeth up instantly.
"Good afternoon, mister," said the patient, abruptly.
"Good afternoon," said Mr Cowlishaw. "Have you ... Can I ..."
Strange; in the dental hospital and school there had been no course of
study in the art of pattering to patients!
"It's like this," said the patient, putting his hand in his waistcoat
pocket.
"Will you kindly sit down," said Mr Cowlishaw, turning up the gas, and
pointing to the chair of chairs.
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