He'd meant to.

He honestly had.
"But you didn't," said Garry.
"Great God," thundered Kenny, "you're like a parrot." Fuming he searched afield for cigarettes and found them at his elbow.

A noise at the open window behind him brought him to his feet with a nervous start.
"What's that?
What's over there ?" he demanded petulantly.
"Oh, it's only H-B," said Garry.

"He's come down the fire-escape.
Mac's likely forgotten to chain him." The honey-bear, kept secretly in a studio upstairs and christened "H-B" to cloak his identity--for the club rules denied him hospitality--came in with a jaunty air of confidence.

At the sight of the three men he turned tail and fled.