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I wouldn't tell you so, if I hadn't the paper to show, or you mightn't believe it even of me. Now, what else is it? It's a man-trap, and a hand-cuff, the parish stocks and a leg-lock, all in gold and all in one. Now, what else is it? It's a wedding-ring!"
"Iron leg-lock. Head shaved. Large blister. Good! Any other injuries external or internal under old system?" "Yes, sir, confined as a madman though sane, as you, I am sure, have the sense to see." "Oh, never mind that; we are all sane here except the governor and I." He whipped out, and entered the condition of the new patient's body with jealous minuteness in the case-book.
It's a hoop of solid gold, wrapped in a silver curl-paper, that I myself took off the shining locks of the ever beautiful old lady in Threadneedle Street, London city; I wouldn't tell you so if I hadn't the paper to show, or you mightn't believe it even of me. Now what else is it? It's a man-trap and a handcuff, the parish stocks and a leg-lock, all in gold and all in one. Now what else is it?
He came in looking like a machine, with a note-book in his hand, and stood by the bath side dictating notes to himself and jotting them down. "Six contusions: two on the thorax, one on the abdomen, two on the thighs, one near the patella; turn, please." Alfred turned in the water. "A slight dorsal abrasion; also of the wrists; a severe excoriation of the ankle. Leg-lock, eh?" "Yes."
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