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LXXXV

bout a fortnight after this Philip, going home one eve-
Aning after his day’s work at the hospital, knocked at the
door of Cronshaw’s room. He got no answer and walked
in. Cronshaw was lying huddled up on one side, and Philip
went up to the bed. He did not know whether Cronshaw
was asleep or merely lay there in one of his uncontrollable
fits of irritability. He was surprised to see that his mouth
was open. He touched his shoulder. Philip gave a cry of dis-
may. He slipped his hand under Cronshaw’s shirt and felt
his heart; he did not know what to do; helplessly, because
he had heard of this being done, he held a looking-glass in
front of his mouth. It startled him to be alone with Cron-
shaw. He had his hat and coat still on, and he ran down the
stairs into the street; he hailed a cab and drove to Harley
Street. Dr. Tyrell was in.
‘I say, would you mind coming at once? I think Cron-
shaw’s dead.’
‘If he is it’s not much good my coming, is it?’
‘I should be awfully grateful if you would. I’ve got a cab at
the door. It’ll only take half an hour.’
Tyrell put on his hat. In the cab he asked him one or two
questions.
‘He seemed no worse than usual when I left this morn-
ing,’ said Philip. ‘It gave me an awful shock when I went in

Of Human Bondage