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Sit down," said Lincott genially. "You look bad." Helling, in fact, was gaunt with famine; his eyes were sunk and dull; he was so thin that he seemed to have grown in height. "I had some trouble in finding a ship," he said; and sitting down on the edge of the chair, twirled his hat in some embarrassment. "It is three weeks since you left the hospital?" "Yes."
I could have slept in beds under roofs. It's only fifteen shillings; nothing at all to you," and he looked round the consulting-room, with its pictures and electric lights, "but I want you to take it at what it has been worth to me ever since I came out of the hospital." Lincott took Helling into his dining-room. On a pedestal stood a great silver vase, blazing its magnificence across the room.
"You see that?" he asked. "Yes," said Helling. "It was given to me by a patient. It must have cost at the least £500." Helling tapped the vase with his knuckles. "Yes, sir, that's a present," he said enviously. "That is a present." Lincott laughed and threw up the window. "You can pitch it out into the street if you like. By the side of your coin it's muck." Lincott keeps the coin.
This one, besides, was spoken with an accent not very pronounced, it is true, but unfamiliar. Lincott moved down to the bed. It was occupied by a man apparently tall, with a pair of remorseful blue eyes set in an open face, and a thatch of yellow hair dusted with grey. "What's the matter?" asked Lincott, and the patient explained.
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