He rubbed his plump white hands together, beaming like an aged cherub.
"Holy Moses!" exclaimed Pynsent. "You never get tired of watching—this?" He indicated the promenade in a derisive gesture.
"Never," said Harry, opening his blue eyes in childish astonishment at such a question. "Why this is my show. I planned it. I stand here every night."
"It's meat and drink, old chap, isn't it?" said Corrance.
"I've got just where I wanted to be," Harry said solemnly. "The boys call me king of the music-halls."
"Good-night, your majesty," said Corrance, beginning to descend the stairs. "There's one that's happy and content," he added, as Pynsent and he strolled down the corridor.
"We're saprophytes," burst out Pynsent.
"I don't know what that means," said Jim, "but it sounds something nasty."
CHAPTER XL
"COME!"