As she said this, I could see the doctor putting on his mackintosh and hat in

the hall and so went to him, the teapot still in my hand. The doctor looked at

me with a disgruntled expression. "Your father's not so good," he said. "If he

deteriorates, call me again immediately."

 

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

 

"How old is your father, Stevens?"

 

"Seventy-two, sir."

 

Dr Meredith thought about this, then said again: "If he deteriorates, call me

immediately."

 

I thanked the doctor again and showed him out.

 

It was that evening, shortly before dinner, that I overheard the conversation

between Mr Lewis and M. Dupont. I had for some reason gone up to M. Dupont's

room and was about to knock, but before doing so, as is my custom, I paused for

a second to listen at the door. You may not yourself be in the habit of taking

this small precaution to avoid knocking at some highly inappropriate moment, but

I always have been and can vouch that it is common practice amongst many

professionals. That is to say, there is no subterfuge implied in such an action,

and I for one had no intention of overhearing to the extent I did that evening.