"Is that you?" said the voice of Mrs. Korner. There was, as it
happened, a distinct suggestion of passion in Mrs. Korner's voice, but
not of the passion Mr. Korner was wishful to inspire. It made him a
little more angry than he was before.

"Don't you talk to me with your head out of the window as if this were
a gallanty show. You come down and open the door," commanded Mr.
Korner.

"Haven't you got your latchkey?" demanded Mrs. Korner.

For answer Mr. Korner attacked the door again. The window closed.
The next moment but six or seven, the door was opened with such
suddenness that Mr. Korner, still gripping the knocker, was borne
inward in a flying attitude. Mrs. Korner had descended the stairs
ready with a few remarks. She had not anticipated that Mr. Korner,
usually slow of speech, could be even readier.

"Where's my supper?" indignantly demanded Mr. Korner, still supported
by the knocker.

Mrs. Korner, too astonished for words, simply stared.

"Where's my supper?" repeated Mr. Korner, by this time worked up into
genuine astonishment that it was not ready for him. "What's everybody
mean, going off to bed, when the masterororous hasn't had his supper?"

"Is anything the matter, dear?" was heard the voice of Miss Greene,
speaking from the neighbourhood of the first landing.