To humour him I went the next morning.

Hunnington is a bluff, hearty fellow who feeds himself into pink floridity so as to give confidence to his patients.

In answer to his renewed inquiry as to my neglect, I remarked that a man condemned to be hanged doesn't seek interviews with the judge in order to learn how the rope is getting on.
I conveyed to him politely, although he is an old friend, that I desired to forget his well-fed existence.

In his chatty way he requested me not to be an ass, and proceeded to put to me the usual silly questions.
Remembering the result of my last visit, I made him happy by answering them gloomily; whereupon he seized his opportunity and ordered me out of England for the winter.

I must go to a warm climate--Egypt, South Africa, Madeira--I could take my choice.