"I'm so damned sleepy I'll turn in here if the rest of you will get off the bed."
Then Alice yawned and wriggled, and Mrs. Neff gaped with a slight restraint and staggered to her feet.
"I'm on my way. I'd be bored to death if I weren't so excited over the wonderful sleep I'm to have. I hope I don't wake up for a week."
"I hope you don't," said Willie, thrusting out his arms in an all-embracing oscitation.
There was an epidemic of yawns, and they staggered to the console table where a long row of candles waited. Ten Eyck lighted them and distributed them, and the line moved on like a drunken torchlight procession, helped and hindered one another up, and sang out faint "Good nights" as they dispersed in the upper hall.
Doors were closed, only to be flung open with wails of distress. Martha and Prout had lugged all the trunks and suit-cases and handbags to the wrong rooms.
The three men were compelled to act as porters. Willie was furious and full of "I told you so's"; but Ten Eyck impersonated the transfer-men he had met, and had a different dialect for every room.
Forbes went timidly into the exquisite apartment where Persis was ensconced. It was a shrine to him, and he averted his eyes from the carved and lace-adorned altar of her bed.
But Ten Eyck turned back to pound on the door and put in his palm, whining:
"Don't forget the poor baggage-smasher, lady."