He took a small canvas bag from the other man and opened it. "Forty pounds," he said. "Would you like to count it?"
Mr. Flynn's eyes shone.
"It is all yours," said the doctor, "if you can walk across the room and take it from that gentleman's hand."
"Honour bright?" asked Mr. Flynn, in tremulous tones, as the other man held up the bag and gave him an encouraging smile.
"Honour bright," said the doctor.
With a spring that nearly broke the bed, Mr. Flynn quitted it and snatched the bag, and at the same moment Mrs. Scutts, impelled by a maddened arm, burst into the room.
"Your back!" she moaned. "It'll kill you Get back to bed."
"I'm cured, lovey," said Mr. Flynn, simply.
"His back is as strong as ever," said the doctor, giving it a thump.
Mr. Flynn, who had taken his clothes from a chair and was hastily dressing himself, assented.