"I've easily three weeks' work before me among these mounted figures alone, to say nothing of the men on foot and the trophies and artillery," she said. "Do you know it is going to be rather expensive for you, Mr. Desboro?"
This did not appear to disturb him.
"Because," she went on, "a great many mistakes have been made in labelling, and some mistakes in assembling the complete suits of mail and in assigning weapons. For example, that mounted man in front of you is wearing tilting armour and a helmet that doesn't belong to it. That's a childish mistake."
"We'll put the proper lid on him," said Desboro. "Show it to me and I'll put it all over him now."
"It's up there aloft with the trophies, I think—the fifth group."
"There's a ladder on wheels for a closer view of the weapons. Shall I trundle it in?"
He went out into the hallway and presently came back pushing a clanking extension ladder with a railed top to it. Then he affixed the crank and began to grind until it rose to the desired height.
"All I ask of you is not to tumble off it," he said. "Do you promise?"
She promised with mock seriousness: "Because I need all my brains, you see."