I was waiting, I will not say itching, for him to take his leave, when a
god or demon, that same perhaps which had treated the poor fellow as a
jest for a whole lifetime, inspired him to take a very false step
indeed. He had already taken up his hat and was turning as though to go
to the door, when the unfortunate thought struck him.

"What would you do?" he said.

"How do you mean?" I answered.

"Why, what would you do to try and get it taken up and talked about?"

Then it was my turn, and I let him have it.

"You must get the Press and the Government to work together," I said
rapidly, "and particularly in connection with the new Government Service
of Camion's Fettle-Trains and Cursory Circuits."

He nodded like one who thoroughly understands and desires to hear more.

"Speed," I added nonchalantly, "and the measure of it are of course
essentials in their case."

He nodded again.

"And they have never really settled the problem ... especially about
Fettle-Trains."

"No," said he ponderously, "so I understand."