Joe and I had ransacked sleepy old Melbourne pretty well by this time and had enjoyed every day of the five weeks we had been ashore. There wasn’t a great deal of excitement in town, but we managed to have a good time and to keep amused. Our little group had sat in silent meditation for a few moments following my uncle’s last remark, when Mrs. Wimp stuck her head in the door and said:
“’Ow’d yer loike to see a gent as wants to see yer?”
We looked at one another inquiringly.
“Who is it?” demanded Uncle Naboth.
“’E didn’t say.”
“Didn’t say what, Mrs. Wimp?”
“Didn’t say ’oo ’e were.”
“Did he say who he wanted to see?”
“No sir.”
“Then never mind. Tell him to call again, Mrs. Wimp,” I ventured to say, amused at the landlady’s noncommittal manner.