There came a gentle tap on Grey’s door; then a rap, louder and more insistent; and then repeated knocking, aggressive, commanding; and Grey, aroused suddenly from what was more stupor than sleep, sat up in bed, startled, crying:
“Come in! Entrez! Herein!”
The door opened and Johann entered.
“It is long after noon, Herr Arndt,” he said, bowing, “and the funeral is arranged for three o’clock.”
Grey rubbed his eyes and made an effort to collect his scattered senses.
“Ah, yes,” he murmured, after a moment; “Herr Schlippenbach’s funeral.”
“It is very wet,” Johann continued; “since six this morning it has been raining. I have ordered Herr Arndt’s coffee. It will be here presently.”
“And my tub?”
While Grey, in bathrobe and slippers, was sipping his café au lait and nibbling a brioche, Captain Lindenwald presented himself.