The doctor is examining him.

We have secured the next room to his, and Margaret is there with a nurse." The barrister made no reply, but accompanied them to Frazer's apartment.
In the adjoining room they found Margaret, terribly scared, but listening eagerly to the doctor's cheery optimism.
"It is nothing," he was saying, "a severe squeeze, some slight abrasions, and a great nervous shock, quite serious in its nature, although your friend makes light of it, and wishes to get up at once.

I think, however--" A nurse entered.
"The patient insists upon my leaving the room," she cried angrily.

"He is dressing." They heard Robert's voice: "Confound it, I have been rolled on three times in one day by a bucking broncho, and thought nothing of it.

I absolutely refuse to stop in bed!" The doctor resigned professional responsibility; and the nature of Margaret's cheque caused him to admit that, to a man accustomed to South American ponies, unbroken, the nervous shock might not amount to much.
Indeed, Robert appeared almost immediately, and in a bad temper.
"I lost my wind," he explained, "when that horse fell on me, and everyone promptly imagined I was killed.