Gerald Barnes had been house surgeon when Reggie was surgical registrar at St. Simon's Hospital, and had gone into practice somewhere in Buckinghamshire. The Hon. Stanley Lomas was the head of the Criminal Investigation Department.
"Have they had a scrap?" Reggie smiled to himself. "Lots of zeal at Prior's Colney. Sam! The car after breakfast. We'll go and see life." And he went to bed.
But in the morning, just as he was finishing breakfast, he was told that Nurse Dauntsey wanted to see him and said it was most urgent. Nurse Dauntsey was at St. Simon's Hospital and had a partiality for Reggie, who (quite paternally) liked her for being gentle and kindly and pretty. A trim figure, a pair of honest grey eyes, a wholesome complexion, and an engaging red mouth were the best of Nurse Dauntsey's charms, but there was a simplicity about her which commended them. "Types of English Beauty—Third Prize, Nurse Dauntsey," somebody said once. And it was felt to be just.
On this morning Nurse Dauntsey's nice face was troubled, and she had lost her usual calm. "Oh, Mr. Fortune, will you help me?" She rushed at Reggie. "It's the Lunt case."
"Now what in wonder have you to do with the Lunt case?"
Nurse Dauntsey blushed. "I'm engaged, Mr. Fortune," she said.
