"That's all there is," said Mr. Haim on the landing. "The studio people have the second floor, but they don't use my front door." He spoke the last words rather defiantly.
"I see," said George untruthfully, for he was mystified. But the mystery did not trouble him.
There was no bathroom, and this did not trouble him either, though at Bedford Park he could never have seriously considered a house without a bathroom.
"You could have your choice of ground floor or first floor," said Mr. Haim confidentially, still on the landing. He moved the lamp about, and the shadows moved accordingly on the stairs.
"Oh, I don't mind in the least," George answered. "Whichever would suit you best."
"We could give you breakfast, and use of sitting-room," Mr. Haim proceeded in a low tone. "But no other meals."
"That would be all right," said George cheerfully. "I often dine in town. Like that I can get in a bit of extra work at the office, you see."
"Except on Sundays," Mr. Haim corrected himself. "You'd want your meals on Sundays, of course. But I expect you're out a good deal, what with one thing or another."
"Oh, I am!" George concurred.
The place was perfect, and he was determined to establish himself in it. Nothing could baulk him. A hitch would have desolated him completely.