“Well, sir, they are at it still. And I’m afraid they don’t get much forwarder.”
“Any good speeches this afternoon?”
“Two of the best we’ve had yet, sir. They seem to get better and better.”
At the note of enthusiasm in the voice of the head attendant, Dr. Thorp directed a glance, half pride, half amusement at his visitor.
“We had Abraham on his legs again, sir. He gave us a regular rasper.”
“For your information,” said the doctor to Brandon dryly, “Abraham is none other than Abraham Lincoln.”
“He didn’t half let Germany have it, sir.” The tone of the head attendant was curiously grim.
“How did Goethe take it?” asked the doctor with a chuckle.
“Like a lamb, sir. He just sat in the corner crying like a child.”
Dr. Thorp rose and took a pipe from the chimneypiece.