“You don’t mean to tell me you can’t see where the basin is to go?” said Snipson. “Don’t try to make yourself out a fool, for that won’t do.”
I now saw under the window a hanging-shelf, which I raised and propped up with two iron legs. On this I placed the basin, and then went outside for a can of water I had seen beside our door.
“That’s not my basin!” said Snipson, on my entering. “You don’t think I’m such a dirty brute as to wash in another man’s basin? That’s Holms’—bring mine!”
“How am I to know your basin?” I inquired.
“Why, find out, to be sure!”
I was at a loss to find out, but, thinking it better to bring both in, I did so, and placed them on the shelf.
“That’s mine!” said Snipson, pointing to one of the basins; “now mind you never make a mistake again!”
I looked carefully at the basin, but could see no difference between this and either of the others, and I concluded that Snipson was joking, as they all appeared similar.
Holms now came in, and, thinking I would at once make myself useful, I placed a basin for him near Snipson’s.
“That’s not my basin?” said Holms. “Give me the other!”