AN INSURANCE ACT
Of course, I had always known that a medical examination was a necessarypreliminary to insurance, but in my own case I had expected the thing tobe the merest formality. The doctor, having seen at a glance what afine, strong, healthy fellow I was, would look casually at my tongue,apologise for having doubted it, enquire genially what my grandfatherhad died of, and show me to the door. This idea of mine was fostered bythe excellent testimonial which I had written myself at the Company'sbidding. "Are you suffering from any constitutional disease?--_No_. Haveyou ever had gout?--_No_. Are you deformed?--_No_. Are you of strictlysober and temperate habits?--_No_," I mean _Yes_. My replies had been amodel of what an Assurance Company expects. Then why the need of adoctor?
However, they insisted.
The doctor began quietly enough. He asked, as I had anticipated, afterthe health of my relations. I said that they were very fit; and, not tobe outdone in politeness, expressed the hope that _his_ people, too,were keeping well in this trying weather. He wondered if I drank much. Isaid, "Oh, well, perhaps I _will_," with an apologetic smile, and lookedround for the sideboard. Unfortunately he did not pursue the matter....
"And now," he said, after the hundredth question, "I should like to lookat your chest."
I had seen it coming for some time. In vain I had tried to turn theconversation--to lead him back to the subject of drinks or myrelations. It was no good. He was evidently determined to see my chest.Nothing could move him from his resolve.
Trembling, I prepared for the encounter. What terrible disease was hegoing to discover?
He began by tapping me briskly all over in a series of double knocks.For the most part one double-knock at any point appeared to satisfy him,but occasionally there would be no answer and he would knock again. Atone spot he knocked four times before he could make himself heard.
"This," I said to myself at the third knock, "has torn it. I shall beploughed," and I sent an urgent message to my chest, "For 'eving's sake_do_ something, you fool! Can't you hear the gentleman?" I suppose thatroused it, for at the next knock he passed on to an adjacent spot....
"Um," he said, when he had called everywhere, "um."
"I wonder what I've done," I thought to myself. "I don't believe helikes my chest."
Without a word he got out his stethoscope and began to listen to me. Asluck would have it he struck something interesting almost at once, andfor what seemed hours he stood there listening and listening to it. Butit was boring for me, because I really had very little to do. I couldhave bitten him in the neck with some ease ... or I might have lickedhis ear. Beyond that, nothing seemed to offer.
I moistened my lips and spoke.
"Am I dying?" I asked in a broken voice.
"Don't talk," he said. "Just breathe naturally."
"I am dying," I thought, "and he is hiding it from me." It was aterrible reflection.
"Um," he said and moved on.
By and by he went and listened behind my back. It is very bad form tolisten behind a person's back. I did not tell him so, however. I wantedhim to like me.
"Yes," he said. "Now cough."
"I haven't a cough," I pointed out.
"Make the noise of coughing," he said severely.
Extremely nervous, I did my celebrated imitation of a man with anirritating cough.
"H'm! h'm! h'm! h'm!"
"Yes," said the doctor. "Go on."
"He likes it," I said to myself, "and he must obviously be an excellentjudge. I shall devote more time to mimicry in future. H'm! h'm! h'm!..."
The doctor came round to where I could see him again.
"Now cough like this," he said. "Honk! honk!"
I gave my celebrated imitation of a sick rhinoceros gasping out itslife. It went well. I got an encore.
"Um," he said gravely, "um." He put his stethoscope away and lookedearnestly at me.
"Tell me the worst," I begged. "I'm not bothering about this stupidinsurance business now. That's off, of course. But--how long have I? Imust put my affairs in order. Can you promise me a week?"
He said nothing. He took my wrists in his hands and pressed them. It wasevident that grief over-mastered him and that he was taking a silentfarewell of me. I bowed my head. Then, determined to bear mydeath-sentence like a man, I said firmly, "So be it," and drew myselfaway from him.
However, he wouldn't let me go.
"Come, come," I said to him, "you must not give way"; and I made aneffort to release one of my hands, meaning to pat him encouragingly onthe shoulder.
He resisted....
I realized suddenly that I had mistaken his meaning, and that he wassimply feeling my pulses.
"Um," he said, "um," and continued to finger my wrists.
Clenching my teeth, and with the veins starting out on my forehead, Iworked my pulses as hard as I could.
. . . . .
"Ah," he said, as I finished tying my tie; and he got up from the deskwhere he had been making notes of my disastrous case, and came over tome. "There is just one thing more. Sit down."
I sat down.
"Now cross your knees."
I crossed my knees. He bent over me and gave me a sharp tap below theknee with the side of his hand.
My chest may have disappointed him.... He may have disliked my back....Possibly I was a complete failure with my pulses.... But I knew theknee-trick.
This time he should not be disappointed.
I was taking no risks. Almost before his hand reached my knee, my footshot out and took him fairly under the chin. His face suddenlydisappeared.
"I haven't got _that_ disease," I said cheerily.