‘How should I know? I haven’t an idea what her name is. She was one of a pack of hens that I found cackling in my sister’s drawing-room. They were discussing their maids and how to manage them, same as women have always done since the year one. The brainy-looking one said that when she had a reasonable order to give a maid, she always put it in the form of a request; but if she had an unreasonable request to make to a maid, she always put it in the form of an order. She said that this always bluffed the maid out. I thought there might be something in that bit of wisdom. If you give an order in an ordinary way, as if it were a matter of course, it may get taken in that spirit. Anyway, I thought I’d try it with the bus-conductor. I gave him my half-crown, and said in my light and casual way. “Threepenny ticket. And give me my change in threepenny bits.” ‘He didn’t say anything. He just glared at me. If he had said anything it would probably have scorched the top off the bus. He gave me my change—with never a threepenny bit in it—and then glared some more. He’d got rather a good glare. Broke up my nerves, anyhow. At the next corner I hopped off. ‘Now mark the sequel. A little later I owed a taxi eightpence, gave the man a half-crown and waited for my change. “Sorry, sir,” said the man, “but I shall have to give you six threepenny bits. I’ve got no other silver.” ‘And that’s the way things happen. When you want a thing you can’t get it, and when you don’t want it it’s chucked at you.’ ‘Well, really,’ said the chairman, without a blush, ‘as I foresaw, this turns out to be a very difficult problem. No interruptions, please. I know that I did not actually say that it was very difficult, but it was in my mind. It looked easy, as I pointed out in my opening remarks, but nobody knows better than I do that appearances are often deceptive. I shall call upon our great expert and prize-winner, Mr Pusely-Smythe. I am confident that he will have realised the difficulties and taken his measures accordingly.’