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Question!
"Willyoucometothemeeting?"Iasked.
TarpHenrylookedthoughtful.
"Heisnotapopularperson,thegenialChallenger,"saidhe."Alotofpeoplehaveaccountstosettlewithhim.Ishouldsayheisaboutthebest-hatedmaninLondon.Ifthemedicalstudentsturnouttherewillbenoendofarag.Idon’twanttogetintoabear-garden."
"Youmightatleastdohimthejusticetohearhimstatehisowncase."
"Well,perhapsit’sonlyfair.Allright.I’myourmanfortheevening."
WhenwearrivedatthehallwefoundamuchgreaterconcoursethanIhadexpected.Alineofelectricbroughamsdischargedtheirlittlecargoesofwhite-beardedprofessors,whilethedarkstreamofhumblerpedestrians,whocrowdedthroughthearcheddoor-way,showedthattheaudiencewouldbepopularaswellasscientific.Indeed,itbecameevidenttousassoonaswehadtakenourseatsthatayouthfulandevenboyishspiritwasabroadinthegalleryandthebackportionsofthehall.Lookingbehindme,Icouldseerowsoffacesofthefamiliarmedicalstudenttype.Apparentlythegreathospitalshadeachsentdowntheircontingent.Thebehavioroftheaudienceatpresentwasgood-humored,butmischievous.Scrapsofpopularsongswerechorusedwithanenthusiasmwhichwasastrangepreludetoascientificlecture,andtherewasalreadyatendencytopersonalchaffwhichpromisedajovialeveningtoothers,howeverembarrassingitmightbetotherecipientsofthesedubioushonors.
Thus,whenoldDoctorMeldrum,withhiswell-knowncurly-brimmedopera-hat,appearedupontheplatform,therewassuchauniversalqueryof"WhereDIDyougetthattile?"thathehurriedlyremovedit,andconcealeditfurtivelyunderhischair.
