"I think so, sir," said Mr. Bates meekly.
"Well, we may as well make certain, eh? Suppose you collect some of these and bring them into the scullery."
He pushed open a third door, and turned on a switch.
"There is a gas-stove in here, so we can have plenty of hot water in a few minutes."
Scraping the various remnants from the plates and dishes, Mr. Bates heaped the latter up into two piles and carried them into the scullery. The Professor meanwhile had filled a large washing-up pan with water and placed it on the stove.
"While we are waiting for it to boil," he said, "you might tell me a little more about your past history. In view of your accomplishments, how did Mr. Houghton ever bring himself to part with you?"
"Please, sir, he died."
"A pity," said the Professor. "But surely you should have found little difficulty in obtaining another place?"
Mr. Bates hung his head.
The Professor looked at him. "Ah," he said, after a short pause. "I thought there must be some reason. Come, Mr. Bates, what's the trouble? Never be afraid to speak the truth."