Smiling at the idea that through the instrumentality of my bicycle I had been making myself known to the people of the surrounding country, I followed the man into a small bed-chamber on the ground-floor.
"Now," said he, "the quicker you get off your wet clothes and give yourself a good rub-down the better it will be for you. And I'll go and see what I can do in the way of something for you to put on."
I asked him to bring me the bag from my bicycle, and after doing so he left me.
Very soon I heard talking outside of my door, and as both my entertainers had clear, high voices, I could hear distinctly what they said.
"Go get him the corduroys," said she. "He's a well-made man, but he's no bigger than your father was."
"The corduroys?" he said, somewhat doubtfully, I thought.
"Yes," she replied. "Go get them! I should be glad to have them put to some use."
"But what for a coat?" said he. "There's nothing in the house that he could get on."
"That's true," said she. "But he must have something. You can get him the Duke's dressing-gown."
"What!" exclaimed the man. "You don't mean—"