'Yes. But I'm not minding it so much this time.'

'Waterloo, then--and God help us!' She thundered back to the little
frock-coated figure that waited faithfully near the gate.

Conroy felt the spring sun on his shoulders and trotted home. That
evening he went out with a man in a pair oar, and was rowed to a
standstill. But the other man owned he could not have kept the pace five
minutes longer.

* * * * *

He carried his bag all down Number 3 platform at Waterloo, and hove it
with one hand into the rack.

'Well done!' said Nurse Blaber, in the corridor. 'We've improved too.'

Dr. Gilbert and an older man came out of the next compartment.

'Hallo!' said Gilbert. 'Why haven't you been to see me, Mr. Conroy? Come
under the lamp. Take off your hat. No--no. Sit, you young giant. Ve-ry
good. Look here a minute, Johnnie.'

A little, round-bellied, hawk-faced person glared at him.

'Gilbert was right about the beauty of the beast,' he muttered. 'D'you
keep it in your glove now?' he went on, and punched Conroy in the
short ribs.

'No,' said Conroy meekly, but without coughing. 'Nowhere--on my honour!