He propounded the map to me, as if he loved to hear himself on the subject.
“Is there anywhere I can go for lessons in Dublin?”
I told him where to go, wondering what the feelings of the meek astrologers would be when an Auxiliary armed to the teeth stalked into their presence.
He flung down the map on top of the impious Bulletin, and then ran his hand through the mass of papers and letters. He stooped to the first drawer, then to the second; but my luck held good. Halfway through the second drawer he straightened up and said—
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “Better finish your job.”
He laughed. “No, I’ll trust you.” He walked to the door of the other room where the searchers were busy making hay. “Stop searching,” he said. “Mrs. Fitzgerald isn’t in the mattress.”
After that we stood a few minutes in light conversation.
The tenders went off down the street with a flourish. At every window as usual a head was watching, and a few of the more daring spirits hovered upon their doorsteps. The day had begun well.
Mrs. Slaney returned five minutes after. I think she was glad to have missed the raid, although she declared that she wished she had been present to let the men have her opinion of them.