don’t know,” said the young man. “I don’t know anything.”
Tommy reached for a pad and pencil.
“First of all,” he said, “will you give me your name? My office boy is trained never to ask names. In that way consultations can remain completely confidential.”
“Oh! rather,” said the young man. “Jolly good idea. My name—er—my name’s Smith.”
“Oh! no,” said Tommy. “The real one, please.”
His visitor looked at him in awe.
“Er— St. Vincent,” he said. “Lawrence St. Vincent.”
“It’s a curious thing,” said Tommy, “how very few people there are whose real name is Smith. Personally, I don’t know anyone called Smith. But nine men out of ten