"Sir," said Janet, with a little privileged indignation, "James Annan, sir, is a most respectable young man."
"And he asked you to speak to me?"
"Oh no, sir! Indeed, no, sir! But I thought, sir, that in your department you might have need of a steady young man."
"I have, indeed, Janet. You are as right as ever you will be in your life," said the Convener of Cleaning and Lighting, thinking of the ravages which the traditional hospitality of the department sometimes made among his steadiest young men.
"What are his desires, Janet?" said the Bailie; "does he want a chief inspectorship, or will he be content to handle a broom?"
"Oh, not an inspectorship—at first, sir. And he can handle anything, indeed, sir," said Janet, breathlessly, for the Convener had endued himself with his coat and showed signs of moving gardenwards.
"Including your chin, my dear," said the Bailie, touching (it is very regrettable to have to state) one of Janet's plump dimples with the action which used fifty years ago to go by the name of "chucking." He had dined, his wife was safely up stairs out of harm's way, and Bogie roll glowed cloudily before him. Let these be his excuses.
"James Annan, nor no one else, has more to do with my chin than I like to let them, sir," said Janet, who came from Inverness, and had a very clear idea of business.
The Bailie laughed and went out.
"I will bear it in mind, Janet," said he, for he felt that he was wasting time. He did not mean Janet's dimpled chin.