"I must get Jim to save the situation," I said to myself, and I shouted his name.
"P-please, sir," lisped Maggie Clark, "Jim's standin' oot in the porch."
"Tell him to come in," I commanded.
Maggie went out; then she returned slowly.
"P-please, sir, he's standin' greetin' and he winna come."
"Damnation!" I cried, and I bustled them from the room.
A quarter-past six! It's time Jim came for these boxes.
* * *
I am back in my old rooms in a small street off Hammersmith Broadway. My landlady, Mrs. Lewis, is a lady of delightful garrulity, and her comments on things to-day have served to cheer me up. She is intensely interested in the fact that I have come from Scotland, and anxious to give me all the news of events that have happened during my sojourn in the wilds.
"Did you 'ear much abaht the war in Scotland?" she said.