"I'm sure I done all this before," he said uneasily. "That blessed dream o' mine seems to be with me still."
He turned up the dark avenue, and the eerie feeling deepened. His knees shook, and he had much ado to prevent his teeth from chattering, but he went doggedly on, and once more turned the corner.
"By Gum," said Alf blankly, "'ere's that blinkin' copper again. I can't face 'im again, Bill. You'll 'ave to go."
Bill, who had reached a stage where even his appetite for beer had been temporarily sated, got up.
"Righto," he said, "anything to oblige. 'E won't find no food this time, any'ow."
He lurched downstairs and met the policeman in the drive. Jobling drew a breath of relief at finding that he was received by a stranger.
"That settles it," he said to himself. "'Twas on'y a dream. That black butler ain't to be seen, neither. It is my dooty to inform you, sir," he went on aloud in measured official tones, "that you 'ave several exceedingly bright lights showin' from yer 'ouse at nights, contrary to regulations."
"'Ave I really, ole son?" said Bill breezily. "My mistake! Come right in, won't you, an' 'ave a drink while I see about it."
Alf, watching at the upper window, watched them disappear, with a puzzled expression.