"Cooper has two gifts to a degree which I have never seen equalled," Sir Julian said grimly. "He has a genius for extracting a personal application from everything he hears or sees, and he is firmly convinced that his every action, trivial or otherwise, is worthy of comment."
Five minutes later an opportunity presented itself for immediate verification of this pleasing summary.
Brisk, snub-nosed and sandy-haired, Cooper emerged bustling from "No. II., Book-keeping," just as Mark and Sir Julian turned away from No. V.
"Good morning, Sir Julian. Good morning. I thought you'd be in to-day."
"Is Fuller disengaged?"
"I think so—let me consult my watch." Cooper shot into view a rather bony wrist with a large watch on it. "I see by my wrist-watch that it's just on eleven. Let me pop it out of sight again. Fuller will be in his room, I fancy, but I'll go and find him at once, Sir Julian, and tell him you're here. I'm just on my way down now, to put these books away. I'll look into Fuller's room on my way past."
"Thanks," said Julian laconically.
Cooper hastened ahead of them, murmuring as he went:
"I'll just give a knock on Fuller's door, and look in to say Sir Julian's here, and then I can get rid of all these books ... down the stairs, and one hand on the books so that they don't slip from under my arm...."
In an incredibly short space of time he had sped up the stairs again and made the rather self-evident announcement: