"Sleep? Sleep!" He chortled from deep springs of happiness. "No, Jenny. What I want is a bath, a shave, and a change. But first I want quantities of very black, very strong tea."
"I'll make it for you."
Martin surveyed the back of the house. "But how do we get in?"
"Darling, nobody ever locks doors hereabouts. Anyone can walk in anywhere."
"But we'll wake the whole house up, won't we?"
"Wait; I've got it!" breathed Jenny. She pointed to a middle door hardly discernible through mist "I’ll go into the kitchen and make tea; Aunt Cicely won't mind. You go on up to the roof."
The roof?"
"It will be above the mist and clear air. We can do it without disturbing anybody, and we'll have the whole place to ourselves. I'll be up as soon as the kettle boils."
"That," declared Martin, "is one of the better ideas. But can't I help you?"
"Please let me do it myself," begged Jenny. Her look was irresistible… "If you knew how much I want to… to show … Please let me do it myself, and bring it up to you!"