"Why, what's the matter?" says he.
"P. K. & Q. contracts," says I. "Did you file 'em yet?"
"By Jove, no!" he groans under his breath. "I—I forgot."
"Then it's a case of beat it," says I.
"But—but I can't!" says Mr. Robert. "I can't possibly leave now, right in the middle of——"
"That's so," says I. "She's lookin' this way now. But where'd you stow the contracts? Remember that, do you?"
"Why, of course," says he. "Third left hand drawer of my desk, in a document box."
"'S enough!" says I. "I'll 'phone down and tell 'em. They'll fix it up. Don't move; she's lookin' your way again."
"Wait!" says he, behind his hand. "I must see you before you go back, after the concert is over. Wait for me in the garden."
"In the garden, Maud, it is," says I, and with that I slides back to the front entrance and gets Marie to lead me to the 'phone booth.