"I never thought of that," said Arthur, laughing nervously.
"Shows what a state you're in," said Simeon.
Simeon went to the window and peeped out into the silence of Trafalgar
Road.
"Slight mist," he observed.
Arthur felt a faint return of the pincers and anvil.
"But it will clear off," Simeon added.
Then Simeon put on a dressing-gown and padded out of the room, and
Arthur heard him knock at another door and call:
"Mrs Hopkins, Mrs Hopkins!" And then the sound of a door opening.
"She was dressed and just going downstairs," said Simeon when he
returned to their bedroom. "Breakfast ready in ten minutes. She set the
table last night. I told her to."
"Good!" Arthur murmured.
At sixteen minutes past six they were both dressed, and Simeon was
showing Arthur that Simeon alone knew how to pack a trunk. At twenty
minutes past six the trunk was packed, locked and strapped.
"What about getting the confounded thing downstairs?" Arthur asked.
"When the porter comes," said Simeon, "he and I will do that. It's too
heavy for you to handle."
At six twenty-one they were having breakfast in the little dining-room,
by the heat of another gas-stove.
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