“Oh, hullo!” he said.

I was amazed. The last time I had seen old Sippy, you must remember, he had had all the appearance of a man who didn’t know it was loaded. Haggard. Drawn face. Circles under the eyes. All that sort of thing. And now, not much more than twenty-four hours later, he was simply radiant. His eyes sparkled. His mobile lips were curved in a happy smile. He looked as if he had been taking as much as will cover a sixpence every morning before breakfast for years.

“Hullo, Bertie!” he said. “Hullo, Waterbury! Sorry I’m late.”

The bloke Waterbury seemed by no means pleased at this cordial form of address. He froze visibly.

“You are exceedingly late. I may mention that I have been waiting for upwards of half an hour, and my time is not without its value.”