I found him alone, clearing from the table the remains of supper.  In spite of his soul’s hospitable instincts, he stared at me.

“Why, what the——?”

“Yes, I know.  You’re surprised to see me bursting in on you like a wild animal.  I’m not going to do it every night, but this evening I claim a bit of our old friendship.”

“Claim it all, my dear de Gex!” he said cordially.  “What can I do for you?”

It was characteristic of Campion to put his question in that form.  Ninety-nine men out of a hundred would have asked what was the matter with me.  But Campion, who all his life had given, wanted to know what he could co.

“Tell me fairy tales of Lambeth and idylls of the Waterloo Bridge Road.  Or light your pipe and talk to me of Barbara.”

He folded up the tablecloth and put it in the sideboard drawer.

“If it’s elegant distraction you want,” said he, “I can do better than that.”  He planted himself in front of me.  “Would you like to do a night’s real work?”

“Certainly,” said I.

“A gentleman of my acquaintance named Judd is in the ramping stage of delirium tremens.  He requires a couple of men to hold him down so as to prevent him from getting out of bed and smashing his furniture and his wife and things.  I was going to relieve one of the fellows there now, so that he can get a few hours’ sleep, and if you like to come and relieve the other, you’ll be doing a good action.  But I warn you it won’t be funny.”

“I’m in the mood for anything,” I said.

“You’ll come?”

“Of course.”

“That’s splendid!” he shouted.  “I hardly thought you were in earnest.  Wait till I telephone for some medicine to be sent up from the dispensary.  I promised to take it round with me.”

He telephoned instructions, and presently a porter brought in the medicine.  Campion explained that it had been prescribed by the doctor attached to the institution who was attending the case.

“You must come and see the working of our surgery and dispensary!” he cried enthusiastically.  “We charge those who can afford a sixpence for visit and medicine.  Those who can’t are provided, after inquiry, with coupons.  We don’t want to encourage the well-to-do to get their medical advice gratis, or we wouldn’t be able to cope with the really poor.  We pay the doctor a fixed salary, and the fees go to the general fund of the Building, so it doesn’t matter a hang to him whether a patient pays or not.”

“You must be proud of all this, Campion?” I said.

“In a way,” he replied, lighting his pipe; “but it’s mainly a question of money—­my poor old father’s money which he worked for, not I.”

I reminded him that other sons had been known to put their poor old father’s money to baser uses.

“I suppose Barbara is more useful to the community that steam yachts or racing stables; but there, you see, I hate yachting because I’m always sea-sick, and I scarcely know which end of a horse you put the bridle on.  Every man to his job.  This is mine.  I like it.”