[Hanging his coat over the back of the chair.] Pleasure.
Bertram.
The business of Mr. Mackworth's new book, I mean t'say.
Dunning.
[Sitting and placing his hat on the floor.] Pleasure.
Bertram.
Middle of October, wasn't it, when I——?
Dunning.
Later. [Producing a dog's-eared little memorandum-book and turning its leaves with a moistened thumb.] Here we are—the twenty-fourth. [To everybody, referring to his notes as he proceeds—glibly.] Mr. Filson called on me and Mr. Sillitoe, ladies and gentlemen, on the twenty-fourth of last month with reference to a book by Mr. P. Mackworth—"The Big Drum"—published September the second, and drew our attention to the advertisements of Mr. Mackworth's publisher—Mr. Clifford Titterton, of Charles Street, Adelphi—relating to the same. Mr. F. having made us acquainted with the special circumstances of the case, and furnished us with his reasons for doubting Titterton's flowery statements, [wetting his thumb again and turning to the next leaf of his note-book] on the following day, the twenty-fifth, I purchased a copy of the said book at Messrs. Blake and Hodgson's in the Strand, Mr. Hodgson himself informing me in the course of conversation that, as far as his firm was concerned, the book wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. [Repeating the thumb process.] I then proceeded to pump one of the gals—er—to interrogate one of the assistants—at a circulating library Mrs. D. subscribes to, with a similar result. [Turning to the next leaf.] My next step——
Sir Randle.