bring in a cup of coffee and some toast," he said. "Enough for one."

He went back and slammed his door, and I made his coffee. I steeped a
cup of tea for Mrs. Ladley at the same time. He opened the door just
wide enough for the tray, and took it without so much as a "thank
you." He had a cigarette in his mouth as usual, and I could see a fire
in the grate and smell something like scorching cloth.

"I hope Mrs. Ladley is better," I said, getting my foot in the crack
of the door, so he could not quite close it. It smelled to me as if he
had accidentally set fire to something with his cigarette, and I tried
to see into the room.

"What about Mrs. Ladley?" he snapped.

"You said she was ill last night."

"Oh, yes! Well, she wasn't very sick. She's better."

"Shall I bring her some tea?"

"Take your foot away!" he ordered. "No. She doesn't want tea. She's
not here."

"Not here!"

"Good heavens!" he snarled. "Is her going away anything to make such
a fuss about? The Lord knows I'd be glad to get out of this infernal
pig-wallow myself."