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Can' tell anybody 'cep Major." "The Major will meet us at the Pizza, this evening," explained Brown. "Meanwhile, if you will do me the honour of dining with me " "Ve' kind. Pleasure, 'm'sure. Have li'l drink, Mr. Brown?" "Not here," murmured Brown. "I'm not in uniform, but I'm known." "Quite so. Unnerstan' perfec'ly. Won'do. No." "Had you thought of dressing for dinner?" inquired Mr.
So Vaux went up stairs with the liveliness of a crippled spider, and Miss Erith came from a glowing fireside to welcome him, giving him a firm and slender hand. "You ARE cold," she said. "I'm so sorry to have disturbed you this evening." He said: "Hum hum very kind m'sure hum hum!" There were two deep armchairs before the blaze; Miss Erith took one, Vaux collapsed upon the other.
Seeing the strangers, he hesitated in his lurch toward the water pail, steadied himself on wide-spread feet, very flat on the floor, and waved his right hand slowly in the air. Whether this was to be understood as a form of salutation or a gesture of defiance was a matter of interpretation. "Vishitors," said the old man, at length. "Alwaysh welcome, m'sure. 'Sh scush me."
"A. I. O. agent," said Brown in a low voice. "You telephoned to Major Biddle, I believe." McKay inspected him with profound gravity: "How do," he said. "Ve' gla', m'sure. Ve' kind 'f'you come way up here see me. But I gotta see Major Biddle." "I understand. Major Biddle has asked me to meet you and bring you to him." "Oh. Ve' kind, 'm'sure. Gotta see Major. Confidential.
"What secret is that?" asked Brown, peering at him intently through the dim light, where he swayed in the corner with every jolt of the taxi. "Sorry, m'dear fellow. Mussn' ask me that. Gotta tell Major n'no one else." "But I am the Major's confidential " "Sorry. You'll 'scuse me, 'm'sure. Can't talk Misser Brow! 'gret 'ceedingly 'cessity reticence. Unnerstan'?"
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