She nodded, and he pointed to a printed notice that hung above his desk.
"The morning is the time to make such applications," he told her, fretfully.
"Then why are you open in the afternoon?" Sylvia asked.
"If the application is favorably entertained, the recommendation is granted in the afternoon. You must then take your passport to the Consulate for the consular visa, which can only be done in the morning between twelve and one."
It was like the eternal competition between the tube-lifts and the tube-trains, she thought.
"But they told me at the Consulate that they have nothing to do with passports."
"The Consulate has nothing to do with passports until the applicant for a visa has been approved here."
"Then I must come again to-morrow morning?" Sylvia asked.
"To-morrow morning," the clerk repeated, bending over with intrepid fervor to the responsible task upon which he was engaged. Sylvia wondered what it was: the whole traffic of Europe might hang upon these few minutes.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you again," she said. "But in addition to requiring a visa, my sister wants a new passport."