"I won't ask you to come in now," said Thorndyke, "as we have some
consultations this afternoon. But come in and see us soon; don't wait
for that copy of the will."

"No," said Jervis. "Drop in in the evening when your work is done;
unless, of course, there is more attractive society elsewhere--Oh, you
needn't turn that colour, my dear child; we have all been young once;
there is even a tradition that Thorndyke was young some time back in the
pre-dynastic period."

"Don't take any notice of him, Berkeley," said Thorndyke. "The egg-shell
is sticking to his head still. He'll know better when he is my age."

"Methuselah!" exclaimed Jervis; "I hope I shan't have to wait as long
as that!"

Thorndyke smiled benevolently at his irrepressible junior, and, shaking
my hand cordially, turned into the entry.

From the Temple I wended northward to the adjacent College of Surgeons,
where I spent a couple of profitable hours examining the "pickles," and
refreshing my memory on the subjects of pathology and anatomy;
marvelling afresh (as every practical anatomist must marvel) at the
incredibly perfect technique of the dissections, and inwardly paying a
respectful tribute to the founder of the collection. At length, the
warning of the clock, combined with an increasing craving for tea, drove
me forth and bore me towards the scene of my, not very strenuous,
labours. My mind was still occupied with the contents of the cases and
the great glass jars, so that I found myself at the corner of Fetter
Lane without a very clear idea of how I had got there. But at that point