“What happened?”
“Simply this. The governor begged me—almost in tears—to come down earlier—for the sake of the discipline of the office.”
“What did you say?”
“I said Herr Epstein; what can I do? How do you suppose I can get up, have breakfast and be down here before eleven?”
“He protested and implored and offered to pay cabs for me.”
“Good Lord Mag, you are extraordinary.”
“I am not extraordinary and it is no concern of the Deity’s. I fail to see why I should get to the office earlier than I do. I don’t get my letters before half-past eleven. I am fresh and gay and rested, I get through my work before closing-time. I work like anything whilst I am there.”
“And you still go down at eleven?”
“I still go down at eleven.”