injured at all is his own fault. For years he has allowed himself to
become gross and flabby, with the result that the collision did damage
which it would not have done to a man in hard condition. You, Mr.
Winfield," she added, turning abruptly to Kirk, "would scarcely have
felt it. But then you," went on Mrs. Porter, "are in good condition.
Cold baths!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you take cold baths?"

"I do."

"Do you do Swedish exercises?"

"I go through a series of evolutions every morning, with the utmost
loathing. I started them as a boy, and they have become a habit like
dram-drinking. I would leave them off if I could, but I can't."

"Do nothing of the kind. They are invaluable."

"But undignified."

"Let me feel your biceps, Mr. Winfield," said Mrs. Porter. She nodded
approvingly. "Like iron." She poised a finger and ran a meditative
glance over his form. Kirk eyed her apprehensively. The finger darted
forward and struck home in the region of the third waistcoat button.
"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Ruth!"

"Yes, aunt."