"He is not so ugly as you, club-foot! Nothing like."
There was a shuffling and tapping into the corridors.
Norman listened with wonder and disgust. Not quite realizing the meaning of the conversation, he had nevertheless understood enough to feel like a prisoner whose cell is full of rats. What nameless revels had these beings held? The nocturnal visits of these creatures were evidently unknown to Dr Sforelli. Here were three people who knew the Bang by sight: if this unexpected difficulty were not disposed of, the whole plot was ruined. At all events time must be gained: they must not be led to imagine the King already gone. What should he do? He had a second to deliberate while they went into the throne-room: but had made no plan when he heard them outside his door.
"Then he must be in his bedroom," said the man, and went over to open the door.
"Why, it's locked."
"Perhaps the doctor did it," said the club-foot girl.
"Let's burst it in!"
"I daren't disobey the doctor," said the man.
"That doctor's a devil. Why must he pretend the King's away?"
"For God's sake don't tell a soul."