82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. " "Knock him on the head," thundered Sir Cecil, "or we shall have the watch upon us. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. He smiled. gutenberg. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him.
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