Beaming, he started to dress. When he was ready he skipped across the floor in a cloud of perfume, counted out a heap of white banknotes on the professor's desk and shook him tenderly by both hands.
'You needn't come back for two weeks,' said Philip Philipovich, 'but I must beg you - be careful.'
The ecstaticvoice replied from behind thedoor: 'Don't worry, professor.' The creature gave a delighted giggle and went. The doorbell tinkled through the apartment and the varnished door opened, admitting the other doctor, who handed Philip Philipovich a sheet of paper and announced:
'She has lied about her age. It's probably about fifty or fifty-five. Heart-beats muffled.'
He disappeared, to be succeeded by a rustling lady with a hat planted gaily on one side of her head and with a glittering necklace on her slack, crumpled neck. There were black bags under her eyes and her cheeks were as red as a painted doll. She was extremely nervous.
'How old are you, madam?' enquired Philip Philipovich with great severity.
Frightened, the lady paled under her coating of rouge. 'Professor, I swear that if you knew the agony I've been going through . . .!'
'How old are you, madam?' repeated Philip Philipovich even more sternly.
'Honestly . . . well, forty-five . . .'
'Madam,' groaned Philip Philipovich, I am a busy man. Please don't waste my time. You're not my only patient, you know.'
The lady's bosom heaved violently. 'I've come to you, a great scientist ... I swear to you - it's terrible . . .'
'How old are you?' Philip Philipovich screeched in fury, his spectacles glittering.
'Fifty-one!' replied the lady, wincing with terror.
'Take off your underwear, please,' said Philip Philipovich with relief, and pointed to a high white examination table in the comer.
'I swear, professor,' murmured the lady as with trembling fingers she unbuttoned the fasteners on her belt, 'this boy Moritz ... I honestly admit to you . .
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