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"Take a little time for your answer, my dear sir." Such linked sweetness must have seemed a little excessive in any one not the prime minister. "Take twenty-four—forty-eight—yes, forty-eight hours—shall we say? In the meantime, may I rely—of course I may—such a superfluous question—on your absolute discretion?"
John Endor gave that unnecessary assurance.
"You see, my dear sir, do you not?"—the smile of Slippery Sam was deliciously vulpine. "As soon as they get wind of this in Universe Building, the Great General Staff will be in the field with a hundred fully mobilized army corps—before even our dear Mr. Bendish can apply for the Chiltern Hundreds."
