with a memorandum. That had the number. He had put it down last Monday on a scrap of paper after the Senate meeting for just that occasion, to ring up Garden before the Council.
He had a good memory. He prided himself on that. He clearly remembered jotting the number down on a scrap of University paper in the Senate room. It was the meeting before he went to Perkin's—just before his troubles began!
Professor Higginson felt for that scrap of paper intuitively in the watch pocket of his waistcoat. He could carry such things there for days. It was not in the watch pocket of his waistcoat.
He searched in all the pockets of the suit he was wearing. One puts things which one is in the habit of carrying instinctively into a pocket, and one often does not remember when one did it—especially if one is given to lapses of The Primary Consciousness and Subliminal Thingumbobs!
By a process only too familiar to the less fortunate members of the professional classes, he fingered carefully every edge of the pocket lining until he found a large hole, whereat he as carefully explored all the vague emptiness
