I said nothing, but looked at him for further advice.
"Confound you! Don't look at me with those Jeremiad eyes. What have you been doing, moping indoors for the last ten days instead of playing in the fresh air?"
"I wasn't moping—" I began sullenly.
"Now, sulky—sulky!" interrupted Chappy.
"I wasn't moping. I went and got a thousand lines from Mr. Fillet—"
"Yes, I know. The damned old stinker!" said Chappy, always coarse and delightful.
I think I loved him for those words. I felt that my allies were swinging into line for the great war against Carpet Slippers. There was Doe, and now Chappy.
"I know all about it," continued the new ally, "and then you filled your excitable mind with thoughts of revenge—eh?"
"Yes," I admitted, and looked down at the clean white sheet.
"And off you go on your midnight perambulations—the cold wakes you up—and there's the devil to pay—and the old doctor to pay! One guinea, please. And now I'm off."