Terms accepted. Cable confirmation. Dobree.
Napoleon-at-Austerlitz poised a majestic pencil and then dashed grandly:
Mail two years contract instanter. Du Rance.
The pregnant words were duly submitted to Celimene.
“Now then, honey, what about it?”
Lady Violet acknowledged her defeat with a cheerful grace. These Americans were wonderful!
Mame produced a pound note and gave it to Davis along with the cable. “For the messenger,” she said. But just as the emissary was passing out of the door she changed her mind. “Come to think of it, I’ll send that cable myself.”
The paper was handed back; and the redoubtable Davis went to dismiss the messenger, while yet again Miss Du Rance proceeded to clap on her hat. She had called to mind that an Anonymous highbrow had laid it down in the office calendar that if you want a thing done well you must do it yourself.
The office calendar had a sure trick of being infallible. Hence the quick but firm steps of Mame along Half Moon Street, towards that so conveniently near-at-hand post office.