When the last armful of bars had finally been cast melodiously aside, and the little man freed, he regarded Marc levelly, without thanks.
"You didn't have to hit me," he said reproachfully. "I didn't peek much."
"We blew up!" Toffee explained proudly. She waved an arm significantly at a sizable hole in the wall. The fact that the ceiling was almost entirely gone seemed to escape her notice. "Let's go!"
The drunk, an amiable soul, even if a lost one, accepted the explanation without question and smiled agreeably.
"Okay," he said. "Let's take my car and go somewhere. There's some liquor left in it I think." He turned to Marc apologetically. "No offense, old man?"
"None at all," Marc replied absently.
The fellow extended his hand formally and said, "I'm Harold Jenks. Harold J. Jenks, the plumber."
"Glad to meet you, Mr. Jenks," Marc said impatiently, anxious to be going. "My name is Dracula. This is my girl friend, Mad Agnes."
"Please to meet you, Mr. Dracula," Harold said with careful politeness.
"Heaven help me!" Marc exclaimed desperately. "Let's get out of here!"