"We believe they did!" gasped Orthodocia, and immediately looked out of the window again. I edged my chair toward the other window. Then the cloven foot appeared in the shape of a note-book. He produced it with gentle ostentation, as one would a trump card. The simile is complete when I add that he took it from his sleeve.
"How old is rady?" calmly, deliberately.
"I—I forget," falsified this historian; "forty-five, I believe."
The reporter put it down.
"Other rady, your friend,—not so old? Older? More old?"
"I am twenty-two years of age," said Orthodocia gravely, with a reproachful glance at me, "and I weigh ten stone. Height, five feet eight inches. In shoes, I am in the habit of wearing fives; in gloves, six and a half."
The reporter scribbled convulsively.
"Radies will study Japanese porryticks—please say."
"I beg pardon?"
"Yes." Fills another page.