"I was thinking Silent Simon was in luck's way—but perhaps you're going to wig him?"
She laughed and shook her head.
"Can you imagine me daring to wig Mr. Simon Rattar?"
"I guess he needs waking up now and then like other people. He's been slacking over my business. In fact, I can't quite make him out this morning. He's not quite his usual self for some reason. Don't be afraid to wig him if he needs it!"
The clerk in the background coughed and Miss Cicely Farmond moved towards the door of the lawyer's room, but Ned Cromarty seemed reluctant to end the meeting so quickly.
"How did you come?" he asked.
"Walked," she smiled.
"Walked! And how are you going back?"
"Walk again."
"I say," he suggested eagerly, "I've got my trap in. Let me drive you!"
She hesitated a moment.
"It's awfully good of you to think of it"
"That's settled then. I'll be on the look out when you leave old Simon's den."
He raised his cap and went downstairs this time without any hesitation. He had forgotten to light his cigar, and it was probably as a substitute for smoking that he found himself whistling.
