His gout bothered him.

At the top Mortimer Hyslop was smoking a cigarette.

The young man was thin and looked bored; his summer clothes were a study in harmonious colors, and he had delicate hands like a woman's.

When he saw Cartwright stop he asked: "Can I help you up, sir ?" Cartwright's face got red.

He hated an offer of help that drew attention to his infirmity, and thought Mortimer knew.
"No, thanks! I'm not a cripple yet.