Stanley cast a glance at the pictured face. "Not except that she reminded me of that bint in Egypt, lies and all."
"So you didn't believe that story she told?"
"What do you think!" Stanley said, contemptuous.
"Where do you think the girl was, then, all that time?"
"If I remember what I think I remember about the Red Sea sadie, I'd say very definitely-oh, but definitely-on the tiles," Stanley said, and went out to attend to a customer.
Robert picked up the paper and went soberly away. At least one man-in-the-street had not believed the story; but that seemed to be due as much to an old memory as to present cynicism.
And although Stanley had quite obviously read the story without reading the names of the characters concerned, or even the place-names, only ten per cent of readers did that (according to the best Mass Observation); the other ninety per cent would have read every word, and would now be discussing the affair with varying degrees of relish.
At his own office he found that Hallam had been trying to reach him by telephone.
"Shut the door and come in, will you," he said to old Mr. Heseltine, who had caught him with the news on his arrival and was now standing in the door of his room. "And have a look at that."
He reached for the receiver with one hand, and laid the paper under Mr. Heseltine's nose with the other.