“Who? Me? Nothing like that,” Iff disclaimed hastily.
“I just thought you might,” said Staff, disappointed.
For some moments the conversation languished. Then Staff rose and pressed the call-button.
“What’s up?” asked Iff.
“Going to get rid of this,” said Staff with an air of grim determination.
“Just what I was going to suggest. But don’t do anything hasty—anything you’ll be sorry for.”
“Leave that to me, please.”
From his tone the assumption was not unwarrantable that Staff had never yet done anything that he had subsequently found cause to regret. Pensively punishing an inoffensive wrist, Iff subsided.
A steward showed himself in the doorway.
“You rang, sir?”