"I know I would," the first gentleman said, "if I were a goat. I wouldn't blame it a bit. It's shocking, just the thought of it."
"They're doing the best they can," the second gentleman reminded. "I can see where a reluctant goat wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world to get along with."
"Just the same, I don't approve," the first man said. "Not even a little bit. If the goat is shy, they shouldn't bring it out in public to milk it like this."
"Maybe they're trying to teach it social poise," the second man suggested.
"I don't care," the first said. "Livestock should be left at home. Someone should speak to the Health Commissioner about this!"
The second man shook his head with mild amusement. "That shouldn't be difficult for you," he said. "You are the Health Commissioner. Or did they get you in the last clean-up?"
The first man looked at him sharply. "The devil you say!" he exclaimed. He thought about it for a moment. "By heaven, you're right. Sometimes I forget. I thought I was the Water Commissioner. Haven't been to my office for weeks to see what it says on the door." He started away, then turned back. "Why don't you come in and complain to me about this goat? It wouldn't look right if I complained to myself, would it? My secretary would think it was odd."
Meanwhile Marc and Toffee had wedged themselves into the doorway of the telephone booth and were staring incredulously at George.
"Well," George said uneasily, "haven't you ever seen a ghost before?"
"I should hope to tell you I haven't," Toffee said fervently. She looked at George with suspicion. "How do we know you're a ghost? Can you prove it?"