You or I must have been ruined, Mr. Selfridge, and it has settled on you.
There was nothing to do but wire Selfridge Field to ship me another wing.
"My name is Selfridge," explained Wally, a trifle irritated.
That phase of the subject Selfridge did not want to discuss.
By the way, I want to thank you for sending a relief party out to find me, Mr. Selfridge.
If Selfridge had held any doubts before, he discarded them now.
While there I applied for a six months tour of active duty at Selfridge Field, and also got that.
"Of course you'll put up with me as my guest," Selfridge flowed on.
He rose to the occasion like a hero or Mr Selfridge's buyer.
And this was the second time in succession that Selfridge had come to grief.