Unfortunately, in dentistry there is etiquette. And the
etiquette of dentistry is as terrible, as unbending, as the etiquette of
the Court of Austria.
Mr Cowlishaw knew that he could not do this thing without sinning
against etiquette.
"I'm sorry I can't fall in with your scheme," said he, "but I can't."
"But, _man_!" protested the Scotchman, "it's the greatest scheme that
ever was."
"Yes," said Mr Cowlishaw, "but it would be unprofessional."
Mr Rannoch was himself a professional. "Oh, well," he said
sarcastically, "if you're one of those amateurs--"
"I'll put you the job in as low as possible," said Mr Cowlishaw,
persuasively.
But Scotchmen are not to be persuaded like that.
Mr Rannoch wrapped up his teeth and left.
What finally happened to those teeth Mr Cowlishaw never knew. But he
satisfied himself that they were not advertised in the _Signal_.
III
Now, just as Mr Cowlishaw was personally conducting to the door the
greatest goal-getter that the Five Towns had ever seen there happened
another ring, and thus it fell out that Mr Cowlishaw found himself in
the double difficulty of speeding his first visitor and welcoming his
second all in the same breath.
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