"I do!" said Sidney Prale.
Prale slept well that night. When he awoke in the morning, Murk was dressed and sitting by the window. He drew Prale's bath without being told, and then stood around as if waiting to be of service.
"I—I found this slipped under your door, sir," he said, after a time.
"What is it, Murk?"
"A piece of paper with writing on it, sir."
"More news from the enemy, I suppose. What does it say?"
"It says as how a man's sin always finds him out."
"That's interesting, isn't it? Do you think I am a sinner of some sort, Murk?"
"I don't care if you are, sir!"
"Murk! You needn't get excited about it. Put the paper in the lower drawer of the dresser; I'm making a collection of them," Prale said. He went back into the other room and continued dressing. "Go to the telephone and order breakfast served to us here, Murk," he directed.