“How are you goin’ to find him then?”
“I shall call this afternoon at eleven hundred Z.”
“To see if he has run in for a postcard! And what sort of person do you expect him to be?”
“Something quite out of the common.”
Mrs. Merillia screwed up her eyes doubtfully.
“I hope you won’t be disappointed. How many editions have there been of the Almanac?”
“Seventy yearly editions.”
“Then Malkiel must be a very old man.”
“But this Mr. Malkiel is Malkiel the Second.”
“One of a dynasty! That alters the case. Perhaps he’s a young man about town. There are young men about town, I believe, who have addresses at clubs and libraries, and sleep on doorsteps, or in the Park. Well, Hennessey, I see you are getting fidgety. You had better be off. Buy me some roses for my room on your way home. I’m expectin’ someone to have tea with the poor victim of prophecy this afternoon.”