So far as I remember I had one drink of whisky--your whisky--and then I woke up in your bedroom with a splitting headache and a tongue like a piece of leather.

Can you account for it ?" Mr.Wilks shook his head again.

"I wasn't here," he said, plucking up courage.

"Why not go an' see your father?
Seems to me 'e is the one that would know most about it." Mr.Nugent stood for a minute considering, and then raising the latch of the door opened it slowly and inhaled the cold morning air.

A subtle and delicate aroma of coffee and herrings which had escaped from neighbouring breakfast-tables invaded the room and reminded him of an appetite.