Accordingly I went in and gossiped with Mr.
Bellingham, chiefly about the work that we had done at the Museum, until it was time for me to return to the surgery.
Having taken my leave, I walked down the stairs with reflective slowness and as much creaking of my boots as I could manage; with the result, hopefully anticipated, that as I approached the door of Miss Oman's room it opened and the lady's head protruded.
"I'd change my cobbler if I were you," she said.
I thought of the "angelic human hedgehog," and nearly sniggered in her face.
"I am sure you would, Miss Oman, instantly; though, mind you, the poor fellow can't help his looks." "You are a very flippant young man," she said severely.

Whereat I grinned, and she regarded me silently with a baleful glare.

Suddenly I remembered my mission and became serious and sober.
"Miss Oman," I said, "I very much want to take your advice on a matter of some importance--to me, at least." (That ought to fetch her, I thought.) The "advice fly"-- strangely neglected by Izaak Walton--is guaranteed to kill in any weather.

And it did fetch her.

She rose in a flash and gorged it, cock's feathers, worsted body and all.
"What is it about ?" she asked eagerly.