annunciator.
"He's probably had his coat made rather long and snug. It'll be the very
thing for you. We mustn't leave a stone unturned, or a coat untried." To
Bella, appearing at the door, and putting her apron up to control
herself at sight of Mr. Roberts's figure: "Do you know whether Mr.
Baker's people have gone to bed?"

_Bella:_ "No, sir. I heard their second girl saying on the stairs that
Mrs. Baker was up with a bad toothache."

_Campbell:_ "What a piece of luck! Run right up, will you, and borrow
Mr. Baker's dress-coat." To Roberts, on Bella's disappearance: "Baker's
coat will be all right; but still we'd better work away at this bureau
drawer again. Drive the ice-pick in a little farther, now." They
struggle with lock as before, until Bella returns, Roberts
absent-mindedly keeping Merrick's coat on, and from time to time taking
a turn about the room to rest his back.

_Roberts:_ "Let's give it up, Willis. We can't get it open. It's no
use!"

_Campbell_, desisting: "Well, we'll leave that to the last, then. But
I've the liveliest confidence in Baker's coat. Ah, here it is! Saved!
Saved!" He takes the garment from Bella at the threshold. "Now, then,
the great thing is to get Merrick's coat off in one piece. I thought I
heard a ripping sound in the back of it when you were straining at that
drawer. But I guess it was merely fancy. Easy, easy!" He helps Roberts
get the coat off, and examines it.

_Roberts_, anxiously: "Is it all right?"

_Campbell:_ "Yes, it's perfectly sound. You may have started the seams a
little, but it's nothing that Merrick will ever notice. Now for Baker!
There! Goes on like an old shoe!" He retires a few steps and surveys
Roberts's back, which Roberts is craning his neck round to get a view of
in the glass. "_There's_ space! Gives you a mighty fine, portly figure,
Roberts; it looks _grand_ on you, it does indeed! I call that the back
of a leading citizen in very comfortable circumstances. Something
magisterial about it. Perhaps it's a little full; but that's a good
fault; it must set awfully easy. Sleeves are a trifle short, maybe, but
not too much to show your cuff-buttons; I hate a coat that don't do
that. Yes, I should call that a very nice fit."

_Roberts_, tearing off the coat, and flinging it on the bed: "You know
it won't do, Willis. And now I must give the whole thing up. You'd
better hurry off and explain to Agnes why I could not come."

_Campbell:_ "Oh no, I can't leave