The Small Back Room Page #4

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How long will that take?

Three hours,

if I don't go to lunch.

Well, must you?

- Girls do eat.

- Well, can't you send out for something?

I tell you what I'll do.

I'll buy you some tulips for your desk.

- Yellow ones?

- Enormous yellow ones.

All right.

There's a good girl.

You see, Sammy?

Everybody's got a price.

Now tell me about the Reeve's.

Good show?

- Oh, moderately.

- What did you think of it?

- Till will need a few days on the figures.

- Oh, figures. How'd you like it?

- Plenty of snags.

- Oh, it's not perfect yet. Needs cleaning up. That's easy.

- Holland took against it too.

- Well, luckily the thing's been sold above Holland's level.

- Sold?

- Yes, I made the old man take me round to see the minister, and I put it across to him.

- He's all steamed up.

- What'd you sell it to him on?

What the stars foretell for this week...

or just intuition?

- No, the idea's right.

- It may be, if the figures say what we want.

- They'll have to. After what I told his nibs.

- What do you mean they'll have to?

Now look here, Sammy.

Don't let yourself be impressed by soldiers.

I've noticed that whenever we disagree

with the military we're always right...

except that they have to use the stuff

and trust their lives to it and we don't.

Medals have an emotional appeal

for you, Sammy.

Now mark my words.

Nobody gets medals for having brains.

- Holland has brains.

- Oh.

- Ganglia. Antennae. I wouldn't put it higher than that.

- And he knows his job.

Oh, Lord, how sick I am of these people

who know their jobs.

Except you and me, Sammy.

Except you and me.

Look. Look.

Morning, Lascomb.

Hello, Dibley. How are you?

Morning. How are you?

- Morning, Mr. Pinker. Very well, thank you.

- Good. Waiter.

- Yes, sir?

- Is the saddle still on?

- Yes, sir.

- Right, I'll have it, and, uh...

oh, a thick soup,

pint of Hollistry, please.

- Very good, sir.

- Hello, Sammy.

Hello, Pinker. Sit down.

Well, how's everything going

with the back room boys?

- Have we won the war yet?

- Nobody tells me anything.

Well, I think I've made

a substantial contribution today.

- Godshall is going.

- You fired him.

Body was riddled with bullets.

You know, we need

a new permanent secretary.

Higgins is a dear good soul,

but there's a war on.

- Well, why don't you just fire him too?

- He's on the list.

I'm having a drink with, uh...

with the minister's principal

private secretary's cousin tomorrow.

I shall drop a little poison in his ear.

- Gangster stuff.

- No orchids. Master Higgins.

- That boy Waring.

- Well, what about him?

- Moving in very high society suddenly.

- Yes.

And old man Mair.

I hope he isn't going political.

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