Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/156

 and foot and knew he would probably get no breakfast of any kind.

“I say, you do that rather well, you know,” said Val.

The other turned and regarded him pleasantly.

“Oh, you’re awake, are you?” he asked unnecessarily, and smiled. “Isn’t it funny the useless questions people ask? Now, I can see darn well you’re awake—and yet I ask. I guess it’s just to be polite.”

“Be polite, to be sure,” agreed Val. “Let nothing interfere with your good manners. Even when you’re committing a murder—just a slight murder, you know, nothing much—do it in a genteel way; be cultured above all things. Remember Gilbert’s little poem:

Teck laughed, and went on eating, not able to reply because his mouth was rather full of toast and bacon and egg.

“Though I suppose it’s rather bad form to mention a policeman to you, isn’t it?” he suggested pleasantly. “In the house of the hangman, you know⸺”

“That’s all right, I don’t mind, my friend,” assured Teck. “Have your little minute, if you wish—it won’t be long.”

“Well, that’s about all any of us have on this old earth, isn’t it?” queried Val. “A little minute—and darkness⸺”

“Darkness comes to some quicker than to others,”