"Take it easy," I assured him. "You're a little rusty, that's all. What about the total recall? Is it still working?"
He nodded, but he didn't say any more about it.
Next day I stuck my head in before I went to lunch, and I congratulated myself on not pushing him too hard the first day. Hillary was off in his corner again, but his mouth was moving and all four girls were doing the things that secretaries do when they are about two hours behind in their work.
Eight days later the thing dropped on my desk. I wet a finger with keen anticipation, but the spit wasn't dry before I was plowing into Hillary's office trailing loose sheets.
"Are you kidding?" I yelled.
He was out of his chair over by the window staring out. All he did was hunch up his shoulders. The girls were standing around trying to act invisible.
"Hillary," I said trying to laugh. "Don't be playing gags on old George. Where is it? Where's Oscar's play?"
"I—I'm afraid that's it," he said without turning his head.
"This—this fluff? This pablum?"
"Well—I thought I'd try something light to begin with."