“But
not always when they’ll be back, eh, Mr. Bellamy?” He quickly filled out the
form, eyes down, a half-smile on his face. “Though now there will be two
Misters Bellamy, will there not? More headache for me to keep straight!”
He
handed me the paper.
“Here
is your temporary pass, Mr. Bob,” he said seriously. “Do not lose it; you may
be asked to present it at any time, until your position has been formalized.”
He glanced down at my bag. “If you wish, you may leave your things here at the
desk.”
I
handed it over some relief.
“Thank’ee,
sir, and pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“And
yours, I’m sure.” Mr. Desmoulins ducked down to tuck the bag away, but we all started
at the sounds of a commotion suddenly entering the lobby, and he looked up,
distracted. A party of six or seven men were approaching, making quite a bit of
noise; there was some kind of thing in a covered cage on wheels with them that did not
seem to happy to be there. Mr. Desmoulins cleared his throat and turned back to
us.
“Apprentice
reviews are in Mr. Williams’ office on the second floor today; I believe there
are several scheduled.” He put the bag away briskly. “Good-bye, Mr. Bob, and
good luck with your examination. And once more, welcome back, Mr. Bellamy.”
Although he spoke politely enough, we were clearly being dismissed. His
attention was already on the approaching uproar.
We
touched our hats and moved over to one of the roped-off staircases. Behind us,
the bickering party reached the desk and erupted into a jabber of contradictory
uproar, which Mr. Desmoulins attended to with a stoic but masterful air. The
thing was rocking its covered cage back and forth, squawking in an unearthly
manner. We reached the top of the stairs and shut the muffled ruckus out with
the click of a padded door behind us.
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