Mr.Lavender ran his hands through his hair.
"And turns," he said, "on what is the unit of national feeling and intelligence? Is it or is it not a Mayor?"The Personage smiled."Well, what do you think?" he said."Haven't you ever heard them after dinner? There's no question about it.Make your mind easy if that's your only trouble."Mr.Lavender, greatly cheered by the genial certainty in this answer, said: "I thank you, sir.I shall go back and refute that common scoffer, that caster of doubts.I have seen the Truth face, to face, and am greatly encouraged to further public effort.With many apologies I can now get out," he added, as the train stopped at South Croydon."Blink!"And, followed by his dog, he stepped from the train.
The Personage, who was indeed no other than the private secretary of the private secretary of It whom Mr.Lavender had designated as the Truth watched him from the window.
"Well, that WAS a treat, dear papa!" he murmured to himself, emitting a sigh of smoke after his retreating interlocutor.