"Oh, yes," he answered wickedly, "of course! Naturally, I asked him."
"Well—"
"You are curious, Andrews, aren't you?"
"Oh, if there's any secret about it—why, I—"
Mayhan laughed irritatingly; so irritatingly that his questioner was tempted to silence him with his fist.
"No secret at all," the surgeon said, starting off. "It happened—purely by accident."
Then young Andrews, nettled and thoroughly uncomfortable, hastened back to Nina with his scant news. The name "Scripps" meant nothing to her.
But Mayhan, meanwhile, dropping into the club, exploded a bombshell. He found Colonel Darling alone and brooding in his chosen corner, a tall glass of Scotch and soda at his right hand.
"I say, colonel," he blurted, "just came from a chap who says he knows you—or did. Name of Nibbetts."
Darling started so violently that his arm struck the table, jarred it, and sent over the whisky glass, splashing.