'Very good,' said Mr. Omer. 'That's right. And so, young gentleman,' he added, after a few moments' further rubbing of his chin, 'that you may not consider me long-winded as well as short-breathed, I believe that's all about it.'
At this stage the Lord Mayor of London made a radio appeal by loud speakers in the streets, urging the World Police to retire, and the people to go home. Meanwhile the metropolitan unarmed police, who were popular with the London crowds, were sent out to all the danger spots and coolly took charge of their rather weary fellow citizens. Seeing that the mobs were now well in hand, the armed police retired.
Yes, the mountain had burst open the lid for him. Almost casually he tore away the cartridge-paper wrappings. The two great hunks of metal glittered up at him under the sun. There were the same markings on each-the swastika in a circle below an eagle, and the date 1943-the mint marks of the Reichsbank. Major Smythe gave a nod of approval. He replaced the paper and hammered the crooked lid half-shut with a rock. Then he tied the lanyard of his Webley around one of the handles and moved on down the mountain, dragging his clumsy burden behind him.
'I think it must be him, sir. I was really getting the authentic smell of him on the last day - yesterday, that is. It seems a long time ago already.'
"Oh, no." I almost ran behind the counter. "I'd love to do it."
Scott, weather permitting.
Perhaps if she had left him to follow the train of thought he would have remembered. Instead she put her hand over his and leant towards him so that her hair brushed against his face. "Forget it, James," she said. "And don't think so hard about those stupid men." Her eyes were suddenly ardent and demanding. "I've had enough of this place. Take me somewhere else."