He hopped down and followed them to the grill door, repeating over and over that he had been insulted. The clerks stared in amazement.
Once at the foot of the dark stairs and in the open street, Orde looked up at the sky with a deep breath of relief.
“Whew!” said he, “that was a terror! We've gone off the wrong foot that time.”
Newmark looked at him with some amusement.
“You don't mean to say that fooled you!” he marvelled.
“What?” asked Orde.
“All that talk about insults, and the rest of the rubbish. He saw we had spotted his little scheme; and he had to retreat somehow. It was as plain as the nose on your face.”
“You think so?” doubted Orde.
“I know so. If he was mad at all, it was only at being found out.”
“Maybe,” said Orde.