“Look here!” said young Vincelle. “Where do I shave?”
“Don’t shave!” said Pendleton. “Go to sleep again like a Christian.”
“No. I told Mother I’d try to get home in time to take her to church.”
Pendleton pulled out his watch from under his pillow.
“Ah!” he shouted, exultantly. “Half past eleven already, my son! Foiled!”
Vincelle frowned.
“I haven’t missed in years,” he said. “Poor old lady! She counts on it.”
“Now perhaps you’ll shut up and let me go to sleep again.”
“Where can I shave? Is there a bathroom?”
“Ring the bell,” said Pendleton. “And some one’ll bring you hot water.”