"You observe that my respected junior condemns me to lifelong celibacy,"
Thorndyke remarked. "But," he added, "his suggestion is quite a good
one. Of course, we mustn't put any sort of pressure on Bellingham to
employ us--for that is what it amounts to, even if we accept no
payment--but a friendly talk over the supper-table would enable us to
put the matter delicately and yet convincingly."

"Yes," said I, "I see that, and I like the idea immensely. But it won't
be possible for several days, because I've got a job that takes up all
my spare time--and that I ought to be at work on now," I added, with a
sudden qualm at the way in which I had forgotten the passage of time in
the interest of Thorndyke's analysis.

My two friends looked at me inquiringly, and I felt it necessary to
explain about the injured hand and the Tell el Amarna tablets; which I
accordingly did, rather shyly and with a nervous eye upon Jervis. The
slow grin, however, for which I was watching, never came; on the
contrary, he not only heard me through quite gravely, but when I had
finished said with some warmth, and using my old hospital pet name:

"I'll say one thing for you, Polly; you're a good chum, and you always
were. I hope your Nevill's Court friends appreciate the fact."

"They are far more appreciative than the occasion warrants," I answered.
"But to return to this supper question: how will this day week suit
you?"

"It will suit me," Thorndyke answered, with a glance at his junior.