The gentlemen began to talk of the accident. Mr Cunningham said that he had once known a similar case. A man of seventy had bitten off a piece of his tongue during an epileptic fit and the tongue had filled in again so that no one could see a trace of the bite.
“Well, I’m not seventy,” said the invalid.
“God forbid,” said Mr Cunningham.
“It doesn’t pain you now?” asked Mr M’Coy.
Mr M’Coy had been at one time a tenor of some reputation.
His wife, who had been a soprano, still taught young children to play the piano at low terms. His line of life had not been the shortest distance between two