"Go right ahead," said he. She scrambled the whole alphabet across his neat sheet but he didn't seem to mind.
"Isn't it jolly, Mr. Smart? If Mr. Poopendyke should ever leave you, I may be able to take his place as your secretary."
I bowed very low. "You may be quite sure, Countess, that I shall dismiss Mr. Poopendyke the instant you apply for his job."
"And I shall most cheerfully abdicate," said he. Silly ass!
I couldn't help thinking how infinitely more attractive and perilous she would be as a typist than the excellent young woman who had married the jeweller's clerk, and what an improvement on Poopendyke!
"I came down to inquire when you would like to go exploring for buried treasure, Mr. Smart," she said, after the cylinder had slipped back with a bang that almost startled her out of her pretty boots and caused her to give up typewriting then and there, forevermore.
"Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day," quoted I glibly.
She looked herself over. "If you knew how many times this gown had to be put off till to-morrow, you wouldn't ask me to ruin it the second time I've had it on my back."
"It is an uncommonly attractive gown," said I.
"Shall we set to-morrow for the treasure quest?"