unning?" Naylor was openly astonished. "He doesn't strike me as a
cunning man, not in the least."

"Possibly, possibly, I say--not in his ends, but in his means and
expedients. That's my view. I just put it on record, Naylor. I never like
talking too much about my cases."

"Beaumaroy's not your patient, is he?"

"His employer, I suppose he's his employer, Saffron is. Well, I thought
it advisable to see Saffron alone. I tried to. Saffron was reluctant,
this man here openly against it. Next time I shall insist. Because I
think, mind you, at present I no more than think, that there's more in
Saffron's case than meets the eye."

Naylor glanced at him, smiling. "You fellows are always starting
hares," he said.

"Game and set!" cried Captain Alec, and--to his partner--"Thank you very
much for carrying a cripple."

But Irechester's attention remained fixed on Beaumaroy, and consequently
on Doctor Mary, for the partners did not separate at the end of their
game, but, after putting on their coats, began to walk up and down
together on the other side of the court, in animated conversation, though
Beaumaroy did most of the talking, Mary listening in her usual grave and
composed manner. Now and then a word or two reached Irechester's ears,
old Naylor seemed to have fallen into a reverie over his cigar, and it
must be confessed that he took no pains not to overhear. Once at least he
plainly heard "Saffron" from Beaumaroy; he thought that the same lips
spoke his own name, and he was sure that Doctor Mary's did. Beaumaroy was
speaking rather urgently, and making gestures with his hands; it seemed
as though he were appealing to his companion in some difficulty or
perplexity. Irechester's mouth was severely compressed and his glance
suspicious as he watched.

The scene was ended by Gertie Naylor calling these laggards in to tea, to
which meal the rest of the company had already betaken itself.

At the tea table they found General Punnit discoursing on war, and giving
"idealists" what idealists usually get. The General believed in war; he
pressed the biological argument, did not flinch when Mr. Naylor dubbed
him the "British Bernhardi," and invoked the support of "these medical
gentleman" (this with a smile at Doctor Mary's expense) for his point of
view. War tested, proved, braced, hardened; it was nature's crucible; it
was the antidote to softness and sentimentality; it was the vindication
of the strong, the elimination of the