“Good. Get the illuminated address for me now as quick as you can.”
Doyle hurried off in the direction of the hotel. Dr. O’Grady turned once more to Lord Alfred.
“By the way,” he said, “before we go on with the unveiling of the statue would you mind telling me this: Have you got an ear for music?”
Lord Alfred had recovered a little from the bewildering effect of Dr. O’Grady’s argument. He reminded himself that he had a duty to perform. He regained with an effort his original point of view, and once more felt sure that the Lord-Lieutenant had been grossly insulted.
“I’ve listened to all you have to say,” he said, “and I still feel, in fact I feel more strongly than ever, that an apology is due to His Excellency.”
“Very well,” said Dr. O’Grady, “I’ve no objection whatever to apologising. I’m extremely sorry that he was put to such a lot of unnecessary trouble. If I’d had the least idea that he wouldn’t have understood about the General—— but I thought he’d have known. I still think he ought to have known. But I won’t say a word about that. Tell him from me that I’m extremely sorry. And now, have you an ear for music?”
“That’s not an apology,” said Lord Alfred. “I won’t go back to His Excellency and tell him—— hang it! I can’t tell him all that stuff about Venus and Hercules.”
“I wish you’d tell me whether you have an ear for music or not. You don’t understand the situation because you haven’t met Thady Gallagher. But I can’t ask you to unveil the statue until I know whether you’ve an ear for music or not.”
“I don’t know what you mean, but——”
Dr. O’Grady made a click with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He was becoming very impatient.