“What mischief are you up to?” demanded Mrs. Middleton sternly.
“I, up to mischief?” said Tom, with an air of bewilderment.
“Yes; what are you making this outrageous racket for?”
Tom passed his hand over his eyes as if to recall himself to a realization of the situation.
“I must have been firing torpedoes,” he said, looking at the box in his hand.
“Torpedoes, indeed!” exclaimed Mrs. Middleton, sniffing indignantly. “Do you consider that proper conduct at time of night, disturbing the house?”
“I told you that I got up in my sleep sometimes,” said Tom.
Mrs. Middleton evidently thought this “too thin,” and looked her incredulity.
“What could have made you get up?” asked her husband.
“I know what it was.” said Mrs. Middleton. “It was eating late at night. I knew it wouldn’t agree with you.”