"Public nuisance, that school. Quite needless, too. Some bally
French theory, you know, sphere of influence, and that rot. Game played
out up here, long ago, but they keep hanging on.--Bath's ready, when you
like." He broke out laughing. "Did you climb into the water-jar,
yesterday, before dinner? Boy reports it upset. You'll find the dipper
more handy.--How did you ever manage? One leg at a time?"
Echoes of glee followed his disappearance. Rudolph, blushing, prepared
to descend into the gloomy vault of ablution. Charcoal fumes, however,
and the glow of a brazier on the dark floor below, not only revived all
his old terror, but at the stair-head halted him with a new.
"Is the water safe?" he called.
Heywood answered impatiently from his bedroom.
"Nothing safe in this world, Mr. Hackh. User's risk." An inaudible
mutter ended with, "Keep clean, anyway."
At breakfast, though the acrid smoke was an enveloping reminder, he made
the only reference to their situation.
"Rain at last: too late, though, to flush out the gutters. We needed it
a month ago.--I say, Hackh, if you don't mind, you might as well cheer
up.
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