“Is anything wrong?” said Janet anxiously.
“Nothing fresh, my dear,” replied Mark: “Hendon and I are going to chat over matters. We shall be up again soon.”
“But is the news very bad?” said Rich.
“No: on the whole good,” replied Mark; and he and Hendon went down-stairs, and were going into the dining-room, but the gas was lit in the surgery, and they went there, to find Bob going over the bottles, and, after a careful polish, putting them back.
“Be off for a bit, my boy,” said Hendon; “or—no; go on with your work.”
He took a match from a box on a shelf, and lit the consulting-room lamp.
“Here,” he said, “room’s chilly; we may as well have a pipe over it.”
Mark nodded, and they smoked for a few minutes in silence.
“Why did you say that was good news?” said Hendon at last.
“Because the enemy shows his hand.”