Mrs.Middlemist's orders.

I'm here for a rest.
What are these?
Proofs?
Writing a novel ?" He held up the bundle with one of his kindly smiles and one of his swift glances at Septimus.
"It's my book on guns." "Can I look ?" "Certainly." Sypher straightened out the bundle--it was in page-proof--and read the title: "A Theoretical Treatise on the Construction of Guns of Large Caliber.

By Septimus Dix, M.A." He looked through the pages.

"This seems like sense, but there are text-books, aren't there, giving all this information ?" "No," said Septimus modestly.

"It begins where the text-books leave off.
The guns I describe have never been cast." "Where on earth do you get your knowledge of artillery ?" Septimus dreamed through the mists of memory.
"A nurse I once had married a bombardier," said he.
Wiggleswick entered with the haddock and other breakfast appurtenances, and while Septimus ate his morning meal Sypher smoked and talked and looked through the pages of the Treatise.