Beatboy shouted Mr Boss, running up the st
airs with a letter in his hand. Beatboy
Where are you?’
‘Here, dear, here, helping microkorg with the dusti
ng,’ said Mrs Novation, appearing out of a
bedroom. ‘Don’t shout like that. I’m not
deaf, you know. What’s the matter?’
‘I’ve a letter here from that old friend of mine, Professor Microkorg
said Mr Boss. ‘You
remember him, don’t you?’
‘Do you mean the man who came here to stay
a few years ago, and kept forgetting to
come in for meals?’ said Mrs Novation,
flicking some dust off her husband’s coat.

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