"What's the matter?" he asked.
"That's what I should like to know," said the prelate. "Mr. Kassala says he is looking for you."
"Indeed! What for?"
"I—er—was wondering if you had a camel-hair paint brush?" said Mr. Kassala.
"Well, you needn't wonder any longer. I haven't," Mr. Percy replied.
"And what do you want, Mr. Jones?" asked the Bishop sternly.
"Nothing, my lord, nothing," said the unhappy Jones. "I was only following Mr. Kassala."
"Then perhaps you'll follow him to bed," remarked the Bishop drily. "I hope I shall have a more satisfactory explanation in the morning."
Here, no doubt feeling that the situation was hardly in keeping with his dignity, the Bishop closed his door. Mr. Percy did the same, while Mr. Kassala and the shivering Jones returned to their corridor.
Mr. Kassala seemed rather amused than otherwise at the situation, but Mr. Jones was permeated with distress. "Cheer up," said the Asiatic, as he turned into his room. "If you will meddle in other people's business you're bound to suffer for it."