They managed to get Jane to her feet. She opened her eyes and looked vaguely at them. Between them they half carried her out of the theatre.

The patient was wheeled away.

Phillips walked off into the anteroom followed by Thoms.

“Well, sir,” remarked Thoms cheerfully, “I think the usual state of things has been reversed. You are the fierce member of the party as a rule, but to-day you’re a perfect sucking-dove and I damned that poor girl to heaps. I’m sorry about it. Suppose she was feeling groggy all through the op.”

“I suppose so,” said Phillips, turning on a tap.

“I’m sorry about it. She’s a nice girl and a good nurse. Attractive. Wonder if she’s engaged.”

“No.”

“Not?”

“No.”

Thoms paused, towel in hand, and stared curiously at his senior. Sir John washed up sedately and methodically.

“Unpleasant game, operating on your friends, isn’t it?” ventured Thoms, after a pause. “And such a distinguished friend, too. Jove, there are lots of Bolshie-minded gentlemen that wouldn’t be overwhelmed with grief if O’Callaghan faded out! I can see it’s hit you up a bit, sir. I’ve never before seen the faintest tremor in your hands.”

“Oh—I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He took off his gown and cap and brushed his hair. “You’re quite right,” he said suddenly, “I didn’t enjoy the operation.”

Thoms grinned good-naturedly and then looked sympathetic.

The door opened and Dr. Roberts came in.

“I just looked in to report, Sir John,” he began. “The patient’s condition is rather disquieting. The camphor injection helped matters at the time but the pulse is still unsatisfactory.” He glanced nervously from one surgeon to the other and polished his glasses. “I must confess I feel rather anxious,” he said. “It’s—it’s such an important case.”

“All cases are important,” said Phillips.

“Of course, Sir John. What I meant to convey was my possible over-anxiety, occasioned by the illustriousness of the patient.”

“You speak like your book, Roberts,” said Thomas facetiously.

“However,” continued Roberts with a doubtful glance at the fat little man. “However, I am anxious.”

“I’ll come and look at him,” answered Philips. “I can understand your concern. Thoms, you’d better come along with us.”

“I won’t be a minute, sir.”

“There’s something about his condition that one doesn’t quite expect,” Roberts said. He went into details. Phillips listened attentively. Thoms darted a complacent glance at the mirror.

“I’m ready,” he told them.

He turned to Roberts.

“That’s a rum-looking old stethoscope you sport, Roberts,” he said jovially.

Roberts looked at it rather proudly. It was an old-fashioned straight instrument of wood with a thick stem, decorated by a row of notches cut down each quadrant.

“I wouldn’t part with that for the latest and best thing on the market, Mr. Thoms,” said Roberts.