Explore "A Silent Witness" by R. Austin Freeman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I AWOKE somewhat late on the following morning; indeed, I was but half awake when there came a somewhat masterful and peremptory tap at my bedroom door, followed by the appearance in the room of a rather tall gentleman of some thirty years of age. I should have diagnosed him instantly as a doctor by his self-possessed, proprietary manner of entering, but he left me no time for guessing as to his identity. "Good-morning, Jardine," he said briskly, jingling the keys and small change in his trousers' pockets, "my name is Jervis. Second violin in the Thorndyke orchestra. I'm in charge here pro tem. How are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm all right. I was just going to get up. You needn't trouble about the practice. I'm quite fit."