"That's all very well--" he began to grumble. But he could not be angry. The pincers and the anvil had suddenly ceased their torment. He was free. He was not a disgraced man. He would catch the train easily. All would be well. All would be as the practical Simeon had arranged that it should be. And in advancing the clock Simeon had acted for the best. Of course, it _was_ safer to be on the safe side! In an affair such as that in which he was engaged, he felt, and he honestly admitted to himself, that he would have been nowhere without Simeon. "Light the stove first, man," Simeon enjoined him. "There's been a change in the weather, I bet. It's as cold as the very deuce." Yes, it was very cold. Arthur now noticed the cold. Strange--or rather not strange--that he had not noticed it before! He lit the gas stove, which exploded with its usual disconcerting _plop_, and a marvellously agreeable warmth began to charm his senses. He continued his dressing as near as possible to the source of this exquisite warmth. Then Simeon, in his leisurely manner, arose out of bed without a word, put his feet into slippers and lit the gas. "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."