My flatmate in medical school was destined, I was fairly certain, to become a great man.

It was not his intelligence - which was assuredly high - or his diligence - we were all businesslike study drudges.

Nor much about outward impression - he was awkward of movement, stammered slightly and wore his father's hand-me-down suits of 30 years' vintage.


But Charles Kuhn III, aka "Chick" had consummate good manners, was quietly thoughtful toward all and cheerful almost always.

The callow youth that I was at the time needed to ask him about the basis of his considerate demeanour.