But--as
it was, no doubt there was a box-room, and matters would arrange
themselves when there was time to attend to them.
"Matters have already arranged themselves," announced Mr. Jack Dane,
from the door of the pump-court. "I heard Sir Samuel speak about your
accommodation, and I saw that nothing was being done, so I discovered
the box-room, and it is now ready, all but bed-covering. And for fear
there might be trouble about that, I've put Lady Turnour's cushions and
rugs on the alleged bed. Would you like to have a look at your quarters
now, or are you too hungry to care?"
"I'm not too hungry to thank you," I exclaimed. "You are a kind of
genie, who takes care of the poor who have neither lamps nor rings to
rub."
"Better not thank me till you've seen the place," said he. "It's a
villainous den; but I didn't think any one here would be likely to do
better with it than I would. Anyhow, you'll find hot water. I
unearthed--literally--another kettle. And it's the first door at the top
of the back stairs."
I flew, or rather stumbled, up the ladder-like stairway, with a candle
which I snatched from the high kitchen mantelpiece, and at the top I
laughed out, gaily.
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