"Call up Dr. Higgins for me."
"Yes, sir."
"Tell him I've an attack of indigestion and will be glad if he'll turn out and see if he can't fix me up for the night."
"Very good, Mr. Kenny."
The gate clanged and the cage dropped from sight as Mr. Kenny opened the door and stood aside to let P. Sybarite precede him.
"Rot!" objected the little man forcibly. "Go in and turn up the lights. Punctilio from a man in your condition—!"
The boy nodded wearily, passed in, and switched up the lights in a comfortably furnished sitting-room.
"As a matter of fact," he said thoughtfully, when P. Sybarite had followed him in and shut the door—"I'm wondering how much of a bluff I may be, after all."
"Meaning—?"
"By all literary precedent I ought to faint now, after my magnificent exhibition of superhuman endurance. But I'm not going to."