judge by the information available, nearly asleep, they were stunned awake to find themselves covered in plaster."
"Lucky it was not -"
"Please don't say it Mr. Smith. I am human too and out for a laugh. But two innocent people of the next building were in their bed asleep and were stunned awake to find themselves covered in, please, plaster. Hugo was on duty. We have evidence members of your youth rally, which again, there's been some question about, that they leaped off the wall nearly going through to these people's bedroom. Luckily the general structure withtook the shock and only the ceiling collapsed."
"I gather there is a question of money."
"We shouldn't like to give that exact impression. But of course there is a certain question of satisfaction."
"My train. Bye bye."
"My train. Bye "Mr. Smith."
"Mr. Stone, bye bye, do I make myself clear."
"Mr. Smith you can't. My management has always been impressed by the respectful and high tone of your personal life. Remember the mosaics. The extra thickness of your door. Remember things like that." of your door. Remember "Bye, bye, Stone."
"Please, Mr. Smith, I must be instructed. What about this crack sent up the wall from your apartment. I don't know whether you care but the Goldminers are listening through it."
"What's that, Mr. Stone."
"I see no way out for you, Mr. Smith. The feelings of the Goldminers have been troubled. I don't know if it's what they're hearing or what. But the rapid appearance of the crack was disconcerting for Mrs. Goldminer especially. She tried covering it with a creeper but they said the racial atmosphere coming through the opening is killing it."
"I gather there is again a question of money, if not semantics."
"Of course again there is the matter of satisfaction, Mr. Smith, if not, ha ha, semantics."
"Be grateful Mr. Stone if you would send all further matters and misunderstandings to my business address, where I will take them up without prejudice."
"As you wish, Mr. Smith. I think you have acquitted yourself just as the management would have expected you would."
"I'm pleased you said that, Mr. Stone."
"We need tarry no longer, Mr. Smith."
"Then this is goodbye Mr. Stone."
"Yes, Mr. Smith."
"Then goodbye."
"Goodbye Mr. Smith. Merry Christmas."
"And a yingle yule to you Mr. Stone."
Hugo sheepish at the door. How intolerable can this entrance get. Rumour has it he had doings with the aristocracy. Even rode a horse. Hightailing it round a palace on speaking terms with crowned heads. Titillated with his past tone as a present footboy. Merry Mansions had a certain Hilda before the elevator became automatic. With whom, I have it on good authority, Hugo was not past the odd knee trembler.
"Good evening Hugo/'
This is quite interesting. No answer. Seems he is looking up in the sky at the threatening snowflakes which are beginning to fall. It would seem this could be a struggle of wills.
"I say there, Hugo, taxi."
This is enthralling. If I had the time one might try a triple hot foot. He heard me speaking to Mr. Stone. It would seem in life when all is said and done that it is unwise to speak to anyone if it can be avoided. I don't suppose it has ever passed through his head that I am a shareholder in the management and could lop his ears off.
"I say there, my good man. You there. I say. Bung ho. Over the top. Charge."
This is quite beyond comprehension. Must have his ear plugs in. Like myself he has had experience with the military. Naturally one tries comraderie when possible. When leading men it is essential not to be scared. Taking the season into account I will not utter some taboo word. I will try volume.
"Taxi."
Hugo stiffened. Boy how he would like to spin around and snarl. However there was need to shout. Normally I would crawl out into the snow on the fours rather than be unkind. But you see Hugo I must have a taxi to take me to the station.
Snowflakes coming thick round the orange canopy, George climbing in on the leather seat. Pulling bag behind. Door slamming resoundingly. Taxi man saying to Hugo,
"Easy on the vehicle bud."
'Driver Grand Central please. Want to make an eight o'clock train."
"Not in this snow, mister."
"I quite understand."
"You do."
"Yes."
"In that case you'll be there at a quarter to eight or my name's not Silvershit."
"I beg your pardon."
"It's terrible. That's my handle. How do you like that for a handicap. Always I know if a guy's laughing in the back of the