"Oh, that's all right-angled," said Freddy, taking the hint and rising. "Sorry. Pramp, pramp. You think I shall find Sir John here Friday if I look in?"
"Yes, here; but desperately busy."
"Er, thanks," drawled Freddy, with just a suggestion of vice. "Perhaps my uncle will be able to spare me five minutes when he has done with you."
He drifted languidly through the door and sauntered down the passage. At the door of the room where the monotonous voice rose and fell in the ceaseless repetition of short sentences, he paused to light a cigarette. For perhaps a full minute he remained quite motionless, the cigarette between his lips, the match pressed ready against the corrugations of the jewelled box he held.
"Listretton, Fergus, 572 Upper Holloway Road, N.
"Listwell-Phelps, J. Walter, F.R.S., Department of Ethopian Antiquities, British Museum, W.C.
"Litchit, Miss, Dressmaker, 15 The Grove, Westpoint-on-Sea.
"Little, Rev. H. K., The Vicarage, Lower Skerrington, Dorset.
"Little, Lieutenant-General Sir Alfred Vernon, C.B., V.C., 14a Eaton Square, S.W.
"Littlejohn, John George, Byryxia, Cole Park, Twickenham."