"Yes. For two."
"All right. Thank you. I'll be with you in a moment."
He sat for a moment getting back his breath, and trying to orientate himself. Nevil was out on business, but Nevil was not much of a moral support at any time. He got up, took his hat, and went to the door of "the office."
"Mr. Heseltine, please," he said, in the polite formula always used in the presence of the younger staff; and the old man followed him into the hall and out to the sunlit doorway.
"Timmy," Robert said. "We're in trouble. Inspector Grant is here from Headquarters with a warrant to arrest the Franchise people." Even as he said the words he could not believe that the thing was really happening.
Neither could old Mr. Heseltine; that was obvious. He stared, wordless; his pale old eyes aghast.
"It's a bit of a shock, isn't it, Timmy?" He shouldn't have hoped for support from the frail old clerk.
But shocked as he was, and frail, and old, Mr. Heseltine was nevertheless a law clerk, and the support was forthcoming. After a lifetime among formulae his mind reacted automatically to the letter of the situation.
"A warrant," he said. "Why a warrant?"
"Because they can't arrest anyone without one," Robert said a trifle impatiently. Was old Timmy getting past his work?