Am I, or am I not, the picture of a
prosperous man?"
Magdalen attempted to answer him. The captain's deluge of words flowed
over her again in a moment.
"Don't exert yourself," he said. "I'll put all your questions for you.
What have I been about? Why do I look so remarkably well off? And how
in the world did I find my way to this house? My dear girl, I have been
occupied, since we last saw each other, in slightly modifying my old
professional habits. I have shifted from Moral Agriculture to Medical
Agriculture. Formerly I preyed on the public sympathy, now I prey on the
public stomach. Stomach and sympathy, sympathy and stomach--look them
both fairly in the face when you reach the wrong side of fifty, and you
will agree with me that they come to much the same thing. However that
may be, here I am--incredible as it may appear--a man with an income,
at last. The founders of my fortune are three in number. Their names are
Aloes, Scammony, and Gamboge. In plainer words, I am now living--on a
Pill. I made a little money (if you remember) by my friendly connection
with you. I made a little more by the happy decease (_Requiescat in
Pace!_) of that female relative of Mrs.
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