I forget what spoilt Tuesday's chance. I fancy it was a busy day for Civil Servants. No one in the Home Civil can get away on a Tuesday. I know that sounds absurd, but Henry was being absurd just then. Or was it barristers? Briefs get given out on a Tuesday, I was made to understand. That brought us to Wednesday. I hoped much from Wednesday.
"Yes," said Henry. "Wednesday might do. Of course most of the weeklies go to press on Wednesday. Rather an awkward day for journalists. What about Thursday?"
I began to get annoyed.
"Thursday my flannel trousers go to the press," I said—"that is to say, they come back from the wash then."
"Look here, why try to be funny?"
"Hang it, who started it? Talking about Contanger-days. Contanger—it sounds like a new kind of guano."
"Well, if you don't believe me——"
"Henry, I do. Thursday be it, then."
"Yes, I suppose that's all right," said Henry doubtfully.
"Why not? Don't say it's sending-in day with artists," I implored. "Not every Thursday?"