A grateful smile irradiated George's face.

"Thank you, ma'am. It's very kind of you, ma'am. I don't mind if I do."

"The man appears a perfect imbecile," said Mrs. Porter, turning abruptly to Kirk. "I ask him if he attributes his physical decay to beer and he babbles."

"I think he thought you were offering him a drink," suggested Kirk. "As a matter of fact, a little brandy wouldn't hurt him, after the shock he has had."

"On no account. The worst thing possible."

"This isn't your lucky day, George," said Kirk. "Well, I guess I'll phone to the doctor."

"Quite unnecessary."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Entirely unnecessary. I have made an examination. There is practically nothing the matter with the man. Put him to bed, and let him sponge his knee with warm water."

"Are you a doctor, Mrs. Porter?"

"I have studied first aid."

"Well, I think, if you don't mind, I should like to have your opinion confirmed."

This was rank mutiny. Mrs. Porter stared haughtily at Kirk. He met her gaze with determination.

"As you please," she snapped.

"Thank you," said Kirk. "I don't want to take any risks with George. I couldn't afford to lose him. There aren't any more like him: they've mislaid the pattern."

He went to the telephone.

Mrs. Porter watched him narrowly. She was more than ever impressed by the perfection of his physique. She appraised his voice as he spoke to the doctor. It gave evidence of excellent lungs. He was a wonderfully perfect physical specimen.

An idea concerning this young man came into her mind, startling as all great ideas are at birth. The older it grew, the more she approved of it. She decided to put a few questions to him. She had a habit of questioning people, and it never occurred to her that they might resent it. If it had occurred to her, she would have done it just the same.

She was like that.

"Mr. Winfield?"

"Yes?"

"I should like to ask you a few questions."

This woman delighted Kirk.

"Please do," he said.

Mrs. Porter scanned him closely.

"You are an extraordinarily healthy man, to all appearances. Have you ever suffered from bad health?"

"Measles."

"Immaterial."

"Very unpleasant, though."

"Nothing else?"

"Mumps."

"Unimportant."

"Not to me. I looked like a water-melon."

"Nothing besides? No serious illnesses?"

"None."

"What is your age?"

"Twenty-five."

"Are your parents living?"

"No."

"Were they healthy?"

"Fit as fiddles."

"And your grandparents?"

"Perfect bear-cats. I remember my grandfather at the age of about a hundred or something like that spanking me for breaking his pipe. I thought it was a steam-hammer. He was a wonderfully muscular old gentleman."

"Excellent."

"By the way," said Kirk casually, "my life _is_ insured."

"Very sensible. There has been no serious illness in your family at all, then, as far as you know?"

"I could hunt up the records, if you like; but I don't think so."

"Consumption? No? Cancer? No? As far as you are aware, nothing? Very satisfactory."

"I'm glad you're pleased."

"Are you married?"

"Good Lord, no!"