We went down and found a stout lady sitting on the pavement warbling
Songs Without Melody.

"Gerout, Zeppelin," she observed as a flash-lamp was turned on her.

"A distinct case of intoxication _plus_ incapability," observed
Granby. "We must take her to the station. You can charge her. I have
so many important engagements this week that I can't spare time to be
a witness."

I saw that a wasted morning at the police-court was to be thrust on
me.

"I also have many important engagements this week," I replied.

"This duty is to be taken seriously--" began Granby.

"Yes," I said, "if we don't run her in we ought to see her home. She
can't stay here rousing the street."

"That was what I was about to suggest as the proper course for
you when you interrupted me," said Granby. "Where do you live?" he
demanded.

"Fourteen, Benbow Avenue," replied the lady; "and pore Uncle Sam's
been dead eleven years."

"Come on," I said. "Get up and we'll see you home."