"In the name of heaven, Mr. Smart, what could have induced you to—" He got no farther than this, and to my certain knowledge this unfinished reproof was the nearest he ever came to openly convicting me of asininity.
"Make yourself at home, old fellow," said I in some haste. I felt sorry for him. "We are going to be very cosy here."
"Cosy?" murmured he, blinking as he looked up, not at me but at the frowning walls that seemed to penetrate the sky.
"I haven't explored those upper regions," I explained nervously, divining his thoughts. "We shall do it together, in a day or two."
"It looks as though it might fall down if we jostled it carelessly," he remarked, having recovered his breath.
"I am expecting masons at any minute," said I, contemplating the unstable stone crest of the northeast turret with some uneasiness. My face brightened suddenly. "That particular section of the castle is uninhabitable, I am told. It really doesn't matter if it collapses. Ah, Britton! Here you are, I see. Good morning."
Britton, a very exacting servant, looked me over critically.
"Your coat and trousers need pressing, sir," said he. "And where am I to get the hot water for shaving, sir?"
"Frau Schmick will supply anything you need, Britton," said I, happy on being able to give the information.
"It is not I as needs it, sir," said he, feeling of his smoothly shaven chin.