"I don't know. Maybe a year."
Rosalind Chalmers uttered an exclamation of disgust.
"I wish to be taken somewhere," she said. "It's important."
"I'll do my best to row you. How far is it—Europe?"
"I do not care to be rowed," she said. Her tone would have frozen mercury.
"Well, I'm headed for Clayton," he observed. "To buy some batteries. It's a long, long way; but if you'll be here until I get back I'll be at your service."
Rosalind considered briefly.
"If I find a set of cells for you," she said, "may I employ you for an hour or two?"
"Surest thing you know, ma'am."
"You'll wait here?"