Sir John felt that after all forty-five was not so very old. Then a third secretarial opening occurred and renewed her hopes again: a position as amanuensis—with which some of the lighter duties of a nurse were combined— to an infirm gentleman of means living at Twickenham, and engaged upon a great literary research to prove that the “Faery Queen” was really a treatise upon molecular chemistry written in a peculiar and picturesquely handled cipher. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. Come with me, Langley, and bring the lantern. Cathy Beck was terribly upset and was on the verge of exploding.
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