"Machin, I understand that my secretary is waiting in the dining-room."

"Yes, sir."

"Ask her to take her things off and then bring her up here."

"Up here, sir?"

"That's right."

In seven movements of unimaginable stealthy swiftness Machin tidied the
worst disorders of the room and departed. Mr. Prohack continued his
breakfast.

Miss Winstock appeared with a small portable typewriter in her arms and
a notebook lodged on the typewriter. She was wearing a smart black skirt
and a smart white blouse with a high collar. In her unsullied freshness
of attire she somewhat resembled a stage secretary on a first night; she
might have been mistaken for a brilliant imitation of a real secretary.


II

"Good morning. So you're come," Mr. Prohack greeted her firmly.

"Good morning. Yes, Mr. Prohack."

"Well, put that thing down on a chair somewhere."