<h2><SPAN name="XVI_THE_DOCTOR" id="XVI_THE_DOCTOR"></SPAN>XVI. THE DOCTOR</h2>
<p>"May I look at my watch?" I asked my partner, breaking a silence which
had lasted from the beginning of the waltz.</p>
<p>"Oh, <i>have</i> you got a watch?" she drawled. "How exciting!"</p>
<p>"I wasn't going to show it to you," I said. "But I always think it looks
so bad for a man to remove his arm from a lady's waist in order to look
at his watch—I mean without some sort of apology or explanation. As
though he were wondering if he could possibly stick another five minutes
of it."</p>
<p>"Let me know when the apology is beginning," said Miss White. Perhaps,
after all, her name wasn't White, but, anyhow, she was dressed in White,
and it's her own fault if wrong impressions arise.</p>
<p>"It begins at once. I've got to catch a train home. There's one at
12.45, I believe. If I started now I could just miss it."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"You don't live in these Northern Heights, then?"</p>
<p>"No. Do you?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>I looked at my watch again.</p>
<p>"I should love to discuss with you the relative advantages of London and
Greater London," I said; "the flats and cats of one and the big gardens
of the other. But just at the moment the only thing I can think of is
whether I shall like the walk home. Are there any dangerous passes to
cross?"</p>
<p>"It's a nice wet night for a walk," said Miss White reflectively.</p>
<p>"If only I had brought my bicycle."</p>
<p>"A watch <i>and</i> a bicycle! You <i>are</i> lucky!"</p>
<p>"Look here, it may be a joke to you, but I don't fancy myself coming
down the mountains at night."</p>
<p>"The last train goes at one o'clock, if that's any good to you."</p>
<p>"All the good in the world," I said joyfully. "Then I needn't walk." I
looked at my watch. "That gives us five minutes more. I could almost
tell you all about myself in that time."</p>
<p>"It generally takes longer than that," said Miss White. "At least it
seems to." She sighed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</SPAN></span> and added, "My partners have been very
autobiographical to-night."</p>
<p>I looked at her severely.</p>
<p>"I'm afraid you're a Suffragette," I said.</p>
<p>As soon as the next dance began I hurried off to find my hostess. I had
just caught sight of her when——</p>
<p>"Our dance, isn't it?" said a voice.</p>
<p>I turned and recognised a girl in blue.</p>
<p>"Ah," I said, coldly cheerful, "I was just looking for you. Come along."</p>
<p>We broke into a gay and happy step, suggestive of twin hearts utterly
free from care.</p>
<p>"Why do you look so thoughtful?" asked the girl in blue after ten
minutes of it.</p>
<p>"I've just heard some good news," I said.</p>
<p>"Oh, do tell me!"</p>
<p>"I don't know if it would really interest you."</p>
<p>"I'm sure it would."</p>
<p>"Well, several miles from here there may be a tram, if one can find it,
which goes nobody quite knows where up till one-thirty in the morning
probably. It is now," I added, looking at my watch (I was getting quite
good at this), "just on one o'clock and raining hard. All is well."</p>
<p>The dance over, I searched in vain for my<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span> hostess. Every minute I took
out my watch and seemed to feel that another tram was just starting off
to some unknown destination. At last I could bear it no longer and,
deciding to write a letter of explanation on the morrow, I dashed off.</p>
<p>My instructions from Miss White with regard to the habitat of trams
(thrown in by her at the last moment in case the train failed me) were
vague. Five minutes' walk convinced me that I had completely lost any
good that they might ever have been to me. Instinct and common sense
were the only guides left. I must settle down to some heavy detective
work.</p>
<p>The steady rain had washed out any footprints that might have been of
assistance, and I was unable to follow up the slot of a tram conductor
of which I had discovered traces in Two-hundred-and-fifty-first Street.
In Three-thousand-eight-hundred-and-ninety-seventh Street I lay with my
ear to the ground and listened intently, for I seemed to hear the
ting-ting of the electric car, but nothing came of it; and in
Four-millionth Street I made a new resolution. I decided to give up
looking for trams and to search instead for London—the London that I
knew.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>I felt pretty certain that I was still in one of the Home Counties, and
I did not seem to remember having crossed the Thames, so that if only I
could find a star which pointed to the south I was in a fair way to get
home. I set out to look for a star; with the natural result that, having
abandoned all hope of finding a man, I immediately ran into him.</p>
<p>"Now then," he said good-naturedly.</p>
<p>"Could you tell me the way to"—I tried to think of some place near my
London—"to Westminster Abbey?"</p>
<p>He looked at me in astonishment. His feeling seemed to be that I was too
late for the Coronation and too early for the morning service.</p>
<p>"Or—or anywhere," I said hurriedly. "Trams, for instance."</p>
<p>He pointed nervously to the right and disappeared.</p>
<p>Imagine my joy; there were tramlines, and better still, a tram
approaching. I tumbled in, gave the conductor a penny, and got a
workman's ticket in exchange. Ten minutes later we reached the terminus.</p>
<p>I had wondered where we should arrive, but didn't much mind so long as I
was again within reach of a cab. However, as soon as I stepped<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span> out of
the tram, I knew at once where I was.</p>
<p>"Tell me," I said to the conductor, "do you now go back again?"</p>
<p>"In ten minutes. There's a tram from here every half-hour."</p>
<p>"When is the last?"</p>
<p>"There's no last. Backwards and forwards all night."</p>
<p>I should have liked to stop and sympathise, but it was getting late. I
walked a hundred yards up the hill and turned to the right.... As I
entered the gates I could hear the sound of music.</p>
<p>"Isn't this our dance?" I said to Miss White, who was taking a breather
at the hall door. "One moment," I added and I got out of my coat and
umbrella.</p>
<p>"Is it? I thought you'd gone."</p>
<p>"Oh, no, I decided to stay, after all. I found out that the trams go all
night."</p>
<p>We walked in together.</p>
<p>"I won't be more autobiographical than I can help," I said, "but I must
say it's hard life, a doctor's. One is called away in the middle of a
dance to a difficult case of—of mumps or something, and—well, there
you are. A delightful<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span> evening spoilt. If one is lucky one may get back
in time for a waltz or two at the end.</p>
<p>"Indeed," I said, as we began to dance, "at one time to-night I quite
thought I wasn't going to get back here at all."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span></p>
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