"She was pulling your leg," protested Colin. "She knows perfectly well that I'm terrified of girls."
"How about the hospital? Haven't you a pretty, intelligent nurse who'd like a nice Christian home?"
"I've never noticed her if we have." He paused as the recollection of his conversation with Sir George Onslow suddenly flashed into his mind. "By Jove!" he added. "That reminds me. I haven't told you my great news yet. I'm chucking the hospital and going as bottle-washer to old Carter."
His companion stared at him half incredulously.
"Is this a fact?" he demanded.
"Well, it's practically settled. I've had nothing to do with it really; Onslow's worked the whole thing for me. I'd just finished talking to him when you rang up."
In a few words he described his interview with Sir George and the curious information which the latter had given him with regard to the professor's requirements.
"I can't say if I shall fit the bill," he added, laughing, "but if the old boy takes a fancy to me I don't care how many damned burglars he has. I'd tackle half a dozen a night for the sake of being his assistant."
"It's a wonderful chance," admitted Mark thoughtfully. "Carter may be a little queer, but there's no doubt that he's the greatest man at his game in the world." He looked across rather wistfully into the strong, smiling face opposite him. "You're a fortunate young devil, Colin," he added. "Nature's presented you with practically everything a man can want—brains, good looks, and the strength of a cart-horse—and now I'm hanged if you're not going to be lucky as well. I'd have given my head for an opening like this when I was your age. Just fancy being able to devote one's life to science instead of wasting it in the futile way I've done."
"You're talking through your hat," protested Colin indignantly. "If you chose you could be sitting in an armchair in Harley Street, but instead of that you and Mary live down there in Shadwell and sweat your souls out amongst the poorest of the poor. Don't you call that good work?"