“I beg your pardon,” he apologized.
“It was my fault,” said Lucile much confused.
The young man turned to Frank Morrow.
“Show up yet?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“Well?”
“I’ll let you know if it does.”
“Yes, do. I have a notion I know where there’s another copy.”
“Well, I’ll be sorry to lose the sale, but I can’t promise delivery at any known date now.”
“Perhaps not at all?”