Van Diest stopped singing long enough to shake his head and Laurence who had seated himself with crossed legs on one of the hard upright chairs said "Barraclough" with a note of pseudo-friendly warning.
"Why not have a shot at 'Avalon,'" Richard suggested sleepily. "Suit you, that would, and make a nice change for me." His throat was burning and talking was painful.
"Hm! A change," said Van Diest. "I wass thinking you would want a change very soon. It is tired you look this morning."
"That's queer, for I had a splendid night." Richard's hollow, dark rimmed eyes gave a lie to his words.
"Hm! Laurence, they use the siren—yes?"
Laurence nodded.
"Had it going every ten minutes. Didn't give him much of a chance last night."
"So! But to these young boys sleep comes very easily—I think—think it wass a goot idea to take away his bed—yes."
Richard rolled his eyes threateningly toward the speaker and checked a sudden torrent of abuse that sprang to his lips.
"It iss bad for these boys to have too much comforts—s'very bad; with the sleep fogged brain a man loses so much the intelligence. You will arrange—yes?"