"
"And the other?"
"Bookbinder and repairer. Wanted to fix up Colonel Graeme's
collection. Youngish, smartly dressed, with a small waxed
moustache."
"And our Livius is clean-shaven," murmured Average Jones. "How long
apart did they call?"
"About two weeks. The second applicant came on the day of the last
snowfall. I looked that up. It was March 27."
"Do you know, Warren," observed Average Jones, "I sometimes think
that part of your talents, at least, are wasted in a chair of
Latin."
"Certainly, there is more excitement in this hide-and-seek game, as
you play it, than in the pursuits of a musty pedant," admitted the
other, crackling his large knuckles. "But when are we going to
spring upon friend Livius and strip him of his fake toga?"
"That's the easiest part of it. I've already caught him filling a
fountain-pen as if he'd been brought up on them, and humming the
spinning chorus from The Flying Dutchman; not to mention the lifting
of my newspaper."
"Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit," murmured Warren.
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