Presently he came back to the table and glanced down at the sheets of manuscript.
"Mr.Waddington," he said, "let me take these to my friend.

I feel that the last few hours must have been a sort of nightmare, and yet--" He drew out a little box from his waistcoat pocket and peered inside.
He was suddenly grave.
"It was no nightmare, then," he muttered.

"I have really taken a bean." "You took it not a quarter of an hour ago," Mr.Waddington told him.
Burton sighed.
"It is awful to imagine that I should have needed it," he confessed.
"There must be some way out of this.

You will trust me with these sheets, Mr.Waddington?
If my friend in the country can do nothing for us, I will take them to the British Museum." "By all means," Mr.Waddington replied.

"Take care of them and bring them back safely.