'Inside or out?'
'I rather think the coffin's to be opened. I imagine some doubt has arisen.'
'If I'm the doubt, I have arisen. Well. Gayer, I'll talk to you another time. At present I want something to eat.'
'Something shall be ready within five minutes. Would your lordship like to go upstairs while it's being prepared?'
'I don't mind.'
'Your lordship's brother occupies the blue room, would your lordship like the oak room?'
'I don't care. Anything will do--for the present.'
I emphasised the last three words, to prepare his mind for the alterations which were at hand. Directly I got into the oak room I knew that if I was to continue to reside in that establishment there'd have to be as many as several. I don't like old-fashioned houses: I don't believe I like old-fashioned anything. If I had my choice, I'd have every thing, and every one, about me up-to-date with the procession; not a mile and a half behind it. That great grim room, with the black oak walls, and the catafalque of a bed wouldn't suit me one little bit. I'd sooner have it a study in rose-coloured silk.
Things had begun well. The mischief was that experience had inclined me to the belief that a good beginning meant a bad ending. Still it was something to have been recognised by Mr. Gayer. It was also something to have learned what was taking place at Cressland. I'd no notion what had caused suspicion to be aroused. If, within a fortnight, Mr. Smith's conscience had pricked him to that extent, then he must be possessed of an outsize in consciences. Anyhow they'd find that it wasn't me who'd been putting in a stay at the family mausoleum.
As I was going downstairs I heard the sound of children's laughter coming from a room above. It sounded queer in that old house. Youth seemed out of place within those black walls. But I'd soon change all that. Youth's what I keep betting on all the time. Where it don't go, I don't go either.