He brought home two bullock-trunks from
Uganda, stuffed solid--"
Sir Elkin wheeled about sharply. "Mr. Farrell," said he, "you had a
letter in yesterday's _Times_."
"If it had crossed my mind, Sir Elkin," pleaded Farrell with a
wagging movement of his whole body, propitiatory, such as dogs make
when they see the whip. "I do assure you--"
"I seem to recollect," interrupted Sir Elkin, "your saying that
considerable sums of public money were spent on our laboratories.
The grant allocated to this College for research was so munificent
that, after building a physiological laboratory with a small
lecture-theatre, we had to house the professor himself in a
match-boarded room covered with corrugated iron. Between them"--
he turned to me in swift explanation--"they made a furnace. . . .
Yes, Mr. Farrell, and you asked why, if all is well inside my
laboratories, I should fear the light. You would insist on knowing
what you were paying for. . . . Well, here is the answer, sir--if it
meet your demand."
In the clearing where Jack's laboratory stood surrounded by turf and
a ring of conifers, a dozen firemen were busy coiling and packing
lengths of hose.
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