H. M: s heavy eyelids raised. He began to make violent noises like, "Rrrr!" and rumble and glare. Then he changed the subject abruptly.
"Fine way for a nephew to talk," he said. "Humph. You're like all the others. Let's see-you're Kitty's son, hey? The one that married the Yank? Yes. Do anything for a livin'? Yanks are hell on people working."
"I do something," admitted Bennett. "But I'm not certain what it is. Sort of international errand-boy for my father: that's the reason for my crossing the ocean in December."
"Hey?" wheezed H. M., peering up. "Don't tell me they've got you in this business too? Bad. Keep out of it! Mug's game. Dull. And they pester you to death. Home Office is always gettin' a scare about protecting the battleships we haven't got. - Are you in it?"
Bennett took a cigar from the box that was thrust at him across the desk. He said:
"No sir. I only wish I were. All I ever do is shake cocktails for visiting celebrities to my father's department; or else carry messages full of platitudes from the old man to the Foreign Offices of smaller governments. You know the sort of thing. `The Secretary presents his compliments, and assures His Excellency that the matter suggested will receive the fullest attention and so on. It. was only a freak of luck that I came to London at all." He hesitated, wondering whether he dared broach the subject on his mind. "It was because of Canifest. A certain Lord Canifest; maybe you know of him? He's the one who owns the string of newspapers."
H. M. knew everybody. His slovenly figure bumped everywhere through the crush; and even Mayfair hostesses had long since ceased to apologize for him. "Canifest, hey?" he inquired, as though the smoke of the cigar were unpleasant to his nostrils. "Sure I know him. He's the one that's whooping for an Anglo-American alliance, and damn the Japanese with their evil eye? Uh, yes. Big fella, with Prime-Ministerish airs and a manner like the world's grandpappa — buttery voice — likes to talk on every possible occasion, hey? Uh huh. Gay dog, too."
Bennett was startled.
"Well," he said feelingly, "I can tell you that's news to me, sir. 1 wish he had been; it would have been easier. You see, he came to the States on a semi-political mission, I gather. Good-will tour and all that. How about an Anglo-American alliance? Of course nobody could do anything, but it made a good impression. They gave him dinners," said Bennett, with dreary recollections of the platitudes that flowed of Canifest standing impressively bland and white-haired above a microphone and a table of roses. "And he spoke over the radio and everybody said what a wonderful thing brotherly love was. Part of my job as errand-boy was to go with his party and help conduct him round New York. But as to his being a gay dog-'
He paused, with a few uncomfortable half-memories that, made him wonder. But he saw H. M. regarding him curiously, and went on: