The Leopard's Spots by Fred M. White — Read

Stagg followed quietly along behind the spacious lady. He was not in the least alarmed or in any way put out by this striking and unexpected development of what should have been quite a commonplace situation. He looked rather like a middle-age Cupid with that innocent face and grey hair of his, but behind that deceptive exterior was a fine driving force, and a set of nerves as resilient as steel. And, besides, Stagg was a man who was consumed with an amazing curiosity, the sort of man who would not have hesitated to pick up a live bomb just for the sake of examining its mechanism. In the course of a long and somewhat chequered career he had had a good many adventures; in fact, he was always looking for them, and here was one after his own heart.

That something was seriously wrong in that large and luxuriously furnished mansion he did not doubt for a moment. The mere fact that he had been mistaken for a doctor summoned there in a great hurry only added to the tension of the situation. Of course, he could have at once proclaimed the fact that a mistake had been made, but he preferred to do nothing of the kind. There was something wrong, almost sinister, here, and it occurred to Stagg that he might turn the knowledge to distinct advantage. If necessary, he was quite prepared to pose as a doctor, so long as he could do so without betraying his ignorance on medical matters or contributing towards what might eventually be construed into a charge of manslaughter. He would see the matter through, at any rate as far as possible.