"I think so. I kept my hair on. By the way, you remember that duffer Lawson?"
"Yes."
"He has hooked an heiress—older than himself, but not so bad-looking. He will have a practice in no time now. I met him bowling along in his carriage, and there was I trudging through the mud! It's the irony of fate, upon my soul!"
"True," said Dudley; "but you know, when we have all the intellect, and all the heart, and all the culture, we don't need to grudge him his carriage."
"I'll shy something at you, Ralph! And now I want your news. How is the way?"
"Thorny."
"And the prospect of the anatomy medal?"
"Dim. But what are medals to an 'aged, aged man' like me?"
"You are hipped to-night. What's up?"
Dudley did not reply at once. He was intensely reserved, as a rule, about his private affairs, but a curious impulse was upon him now to contradict his own character.