Septimus's attire.

"Morning," said Septimus. "I've just got up. Have some breakfast."

He moved to a bell-pull by the fireplace, and the tug was immediately
followed by a loud report.

"What the devil's that?" asked Sypher, startled.

"That," said Septimus mildly, "is an invention. I pull the rope and a
pistol is fired off in the kitchen. Wiggleswick says he can't hear bells.
What's for breakfast?" he asked, as Wiggleswick entered.

"Haddock. And the bath's running over."

Septimus waved him away. "Let it run." He turned to Sypher. "Have a
haddock?"

"At four o'clock in the afternoon? Do you want me to be sick?"

"Good heavens, no!" cried Septimus. "Do come in and I'll give you anything
you like."

He put his hand again on the bell-pull. A hasty exclamation from Sypher
checked his impulse.

"I say, don't do that again. If you'll open the front door for me," he
added, "I may be able to get inside."

A moment or two later Sypher was admitted, by the orthodox avenues, into