The old man touched it with his small-boned fastidious hand, as one seeing a strange exhibit for the first time. "This is the publication one hears so much about," he said. And gave his attention to it, as he would to any strange document.
"We are both in a spot, aren't we!" Hallam said, when they were connected. And raked his vocabulary for some epithets suitable to the Ack-Emma. "As if the police hadn't enough to do without having that rag on their tails!" he finished, being naturally absorbed in the police point of view.
"Have you heard from the Yard?"
"Grant was burning the wires at nine this morning. But there's nothing they can do. Just grin and bear it. The police are always fair game. Nothing you can do, either, if it comes to that."
"Not a thing," Robert said. "We have a fine free press."
Hallam said a few more things about the press. "Do your people know?" he asked.
"I shouldn't think so. I'm quite sure they would never normally see the Ack-Emma, and there hasn't been time for some kind soul to send it to them. But they are due here in about ten minutes, and I'll show it to them then."
"If it was ever possible for me to be sorry for that old battle-axe," Hallam said, "it would be at this minute."
"How did the Ack-Emma get the story? I thought the parents-the girl's guardians, I mean-were very strongly against that kind of publicity."
"Grant says the girl's brother went off the deep end about the police taking no action and went to the Ack-Emma off his own bat. They are strong on the champion act. 'The Ack-Emma will see right done! I once knew one of their crusades run into a third day."