Mr. Thomas Brown swiftly became a daily obstruction at my switchboard in the St. Moe, to the great disgust and alarm of Jerry Murphy and Pete Kift.
"Who is 'at big egg which aces around here all the time?" growls Jerry one day, glaring at Tommy's disappearing back.
"That's as much of your business as Coolidge's diary is!" I says.
"Don't get sore" says Jerry, "I'm only lookin' out for your best interests, Cutey. What's he want?"
"We haven't taken that up yet" I snapped, "So long, Jerry—I'll see you in the comic supplement, Sunday!"
"Well, if 'at John gets giddy, tip me off" says Jerry, ignoring the compliment, "I'll smack him for a loop! How come these gils can get your kind attention day in and day out and you won't give me a tumble?"
"I'm no good at riddles, Jerry," I says, carelessly.
"I wish you'd come up to my flat with me sometime and meet my sister" says Jerry, wistfully, "She's first-class company and so am I and we'd have lots of giggles. Speakin' of entertainment, I got Siam on my radio last night and"
"And you got soup on your tie this morning!" I finished for him, "You better change that neckwear before the manager pegs you, or he'll about broadcast you out of here!"
That sent him scurrying.
