I patted myself all over my front, from what I call my waist up to my head, and I went a bit round each side, and a little way up the back.

But I could not feel or hear anything.

I tried to look at my tongue.

I stuck it out as far as ever it would go, and I shut one eye, and tried to examine it with the other.

I could only see the tip, and the only thing that I could gain from that was to feel more certain than before that I had scarlet fever.
[Picture: Man with walking stick] I had walked into that reading-room a happy, healthy man.