"H'm. Curious. Very curious. Do you remember what you had?"
"I had some things the man called buckwheat cakes, with some stuff he said was maple syrup."
"Bah. American trash." The doctor was a staunch Briton, conservative in his views both on politics and on food. "Why can't you boys eat good English food? I must tell the headmaster of this. I haven't time to look after the school if all the boys are going to poison themselves. You lie still and try to go to sleep, and you'll be right enough in no time."
But Dunstable did not go to sleep. He stayed awake to interview Linton, who came to pay him a visit.
"Well," said Linton, looking down at the sufferer with an expression that was a delicate blend of pity and contempt, "you've made a nice sort of ass of yourself, haven't you! I don't know if it's any consolation to you, but Merrett's just as bad as you are. And I hear the others are, too. So now you see what comes of going to Ring's instead of Cook's."
"And now," said Dunstable, "if you've quite finished, you can listen to me for a bit...."
"So now you know," he concluded.
Linton's face beamed with astonishment and admiration.
"Well, I'm hanged," he said. "You're a marvel. But how did you know it wouldn't poison you?"
"I relied on you. You said it wasn't poison when I asked you in the lab. My faith in you is touching."