Forty-Four – Waiting… WaitingNo matter how much one admires or despises the Royal Mail, one cannot expect miracles. I am a reasonable fellow and, therefore, do not. I mailed George Lusk his present on Monday morning, 15 October. Being reasonable, I did not fret (or even give the package a second thought) until second post on Tuesday. From then on began the interminable wait to hear what effect, if any, the receipt of a boxed and rotting partial kidney of a murdered w***e would have on the president of the Mile End Vigilance Committee. Or what, if any, answer my gift might receive.
I waited. I heard nothing. I waited some more. Days went by. I saw nothing in the newspapers. I heard nothing in the streets. I waited some more.
I confess, I was disappointed – more than I can say – to think t
