Patsy was the person who would help him to grasp it. Patsy he felt to be a tower of strength and ‘cuteness, if such a simile is permissible. And, rising from the writing-table and putting the letters in his pocket, he went to find Patsy. He had not far to go, for as he came into the big hall Patsy was crossing it with a tray in hand.
“Patsy,” said Mr. Fanshawe, “when does the post go out?”
“If you stick your letters in the letter box by the hall door, sir,” said Patsy, “it will be cleared in half-an-hour. Jim Murphy takes the letter-bag to Castle Knock.”
“Right!” said Mr. Fanshawe. “And, see here, Patsy!”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m in a bit of a fix, Patsy, and you may be able to help.”
“And what’s the fix, sir?” asked Patsy.
“You know the young lady you gave the note to this morning—by the way, how did you give it?”
“I tried to shove it undher her door, sir.”