The doctor lives downstairs
"Doctor," she said loudly, bouncing into the room, "I want you to say frankly what's wrong with me."
He surveyed her from head to foot. "Madam," he said at length, "I've just three things to tell you. First, your weight wants reducing by nearly fifty pounds. Second, your beauty could be improved if you used about one tenth as much rouge and lipstick. And third, I'm an artist, the doctor lives downstairs."