Robert's your uncle

— They would send a man immediately, and if he could not get it open they would run us home! We left the telephone, walked up two small flights of stairs, and opened the front door as, believe it or not, the car with three policemen in it was just pulling up. I mention this amazing promptitude hoping that it will be a comfort to timorous souls whose tums turn over when things go bump in the night. A few words to the police, give the address first, and before you can say “Robert’s your uncle” there he is—stalwart two or three of him.