I. A. R. Wylie

“ The Inspector at least played a straightforward game and at the worst he could only produce evidence from the outside against which Monsieur de Beaulieu could defend himself with some possibility of success. But Dr. Frohlocken was out for King's evidence. And the victim was to give evidence against himself.
"It doesn't matter what you are," was one of the Doctor's most disturbing dicta, "it's what you think you are that matters."
And his methods savoured of a perpetual Third Degree. By this time his patient had obtained a general and very unfavourable conception of the Doctor's theories. ”

“ Indeed the Count had an uncomfortable conviction that Slippery Bill himself could not have aroused a deeper feeling of pride and proprietorship in the breast of his captor. But he had no means of resisting this encroachment on his freedom. When a man wears another man's clothes and another man's name and is contemplating the use of another man's money, it is inappropriate to argue the Rights of Property, and Monsieur de Beaulieu resigned himself to his position and his breakfast. ”

“ By his fourth morning he had almost begun to enjoy himself. The mere fact that he had genuinely lost his memory did not trouble him at all. On the contrary, the inability to remember his past seemed to him a distinct professional advantage, conducing to a sincere innocency and ignorance of the world's ways, not to mention his own. In fact, but for the existence of the Pig he might honestly have believed himself a Count or anything else that the Inspector had chosen to suggest to him. As it was, he was able to approach his breakfast with zest. ”

“ You have come here—"
"If there isn't anything the matter with him," Nurse Bunbury interrupted, "I can't tell whether I know him or not. That's all I can say, but I would like to add that my name is Bunbury—Nurse Bunbury—and that I am not a person. I am a lady."
The Inspector looked at the lawyer and the lawyer stared at his documents. The Count replaced his eyeglass in a bright eye which was twinkling at that moment with completely recovered good-humour.
"You mean to say," Mr. Simmons began again sternly, "that you only recognise your patients by their diseases?" ”

“ Simmons; Dr. Frohlocken—Nurse Bunbury—"
The Doctor removed his spectacles, placed them in an inner pocket and buttoned up his coat with the air of a man who refuses to contemplate a disgraceful scene. Count Louis, raised by the dignity of his full title, endeavoured to pull himself together. The Large Person was staring at him with a blankness which boded nothing good and the lawyer had evidently already summed him up and, from the expression of the small eyes behind the pince-nez, none too favourably. Hitherto Monsieur de Beaulieu had felt himself surprisingly at home in his position. ”

“ Your uncle, my late client, Lord Sudleigh, who has left you the property in question, died two months ago. His direct heir has never seen you. Your past mode of life, which, if I may say so, appears to have been somewhat roving, makes it practically impossible to procure reliable witnesses. ”

“ Frohlocken had replaced his spectacles, through which he was gazing at the Large Person with interest and satisfaction.
"I congratulate you, Madam" he said. "You appear to have the proper scientific point of view. You are not concerned with absurd personalities. It happens that I, too, regard him as No. 7. And No. 7 he remains until by reasonable methods—"
"I am asking you about your patient," Mr. Simmons put in with determined patience. "What was the matter with him?" ”