that he was not a lady's man; Thomas Pitts, hard-working mariner and able seaman, preferred to spend his scant leisure time yarning and smoking with his fellow-fishermen, or, alas, sometimes acting as chairman of a jovial gathering at the Mermaid, the one public house which Pebblesdale possessed, and on these occasions rumour has it that much old ale was drunk, and that Tom had been known to descend the steep village street late at night, singing vociferously that he wouldn't go home till morning.
Professor Bronson Marlow had returned from his yachting trip down along the African coast with his health practically re-established. The doctor claimed credit for it, but Stranleigh insisted that the air of the Atlantic Ocean had been the best physician. Stranleigh had got back from the Naval Review at Cadiz, and the two men met in his town house just off Piccadilly. The man of science wished to bid farewell to his friend, and thank him once again for his practical assistance in a time of need.
"I'm all right now, and must be getting back to work again," he said.
"Not on your life," flippantly replied Stranleigh.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, that is a slang phrase, but I'm using it as it stands, meaning that your life might be jeopardised if you began work too soon. Your health is not re-established, and you are to spend
