As the hands of the chop-house clock reached a quarter to two, Mr Waller rose, and led the way back to the office, where they parted for their respective desks. Gratitude for any good turn done to him was a leading characteristic of Mike's nature, and he felt genuinely grateful to the cashier for troubling to seek him out and be friendly to him. His three-quarters-of-an-hour absence had led to the accumulation of a small pile of letters on his desk. He sat down and began to work them off. The addresses continued to exercise a fascination for him. He was miles away from the office, speculating on what sort of a man J. B. Garside, Esq, was, and whether he had a good time at his house in Worcestershire, when somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up. Standing by his side, immaculately dressed as ever, with his eye-glass fixed and a gentle smile on his face, was Psmith. Mike stared. 'Commerce,' said Psmith, as he drew off his lavender gloves, 'has claimed me for her own. Comrade of old, I, too, have joined this blighted institution.' As he spoke, there was a whirring noise in the immediate neighbourhood, and Mr Rossiter buzzed out from his den with the _esprit_ and animation of a clock-work toy. 'Who's here?' said Psmith with interest, removing his eye-glass, polishing it, and replacing it in his eye. 'Mr Jackson,' exclaimed Mr Rossiter. 'I really must ask you to be good enough to come in from your lunch at the proper time. It was fully seven minutes to two when you returned, and--' 'That little more,' sighed Psmith, 'and how much is it!' 'Who are you?' snapped Mr Rossiter, turning on him. 'I shall be delighted, Comrade--' 'Rossiter,' said Mike, aside. 'Comrade Rossiter. I shall be delighted to furnish you with particulars of my family history. As follows. Soon after the Norman Conquest, a certain Sieur de Psmith grew tired of work--a family failing, alas!--and settled down in this country to live peacefully for the remainder of his life on what he could extract from the local peasantry. He may be described as the founder of the family which ultimately culminated in Me. Passing on--' Mr Rossiter refused to pass on. 'What are you doing here? What have you come for?'