"I believe I can. You are a madcap, Margot, but you are a good girl.
I'm not afraid of you, but I imagine that the editor will be a match for
a dozen youngsters like you and Ron, and will soon see through your
little scheme. However, I'll do what I can. In big offices holiday
arrangements have to be made a good while ahead, so it ought not to be
difficult to get the information you want. Now I must be off upstairs
to see the boys before they get into bed. Shall I see you again when I
come down?"
"No, indeed! I've played truant since half-past eleven, so I shall have
to hang about the end of the terrace until father appears, and go in
under his wing, to escape a scolding from Agnes. I had arranged to pay
calls with her this afternoon. I wonder how it is that my memory is so
dreadfully uncertain about things I don't want to do! Good-bye then,
Jack, and a hundred thanks. Posterity will thank you for your help."
Jack Martin laughed and shrugged his shoulders. He had a man's typical
disbelief in the ability of his wife's relatives.