He had just finished his dressing when Bill came in.
"Final instructions?" he asked, sitting down on the bed. "By the way, how are we amusing ourselves after dinner? I mean immediately after dinner."
"Billiards?"
"Righto. Anything you like."
"Don't talk too loud," said Antony in a lower voice. "We're more or less over the hall, and Cayley may be there." He led the way to the window. "We'll go out this way to-night. Going downstairs is too risky. It's easy enough; better put on tennis-shoes."
"Right. I say, in case I don't get another chance alone with you—what do I do when Cayley comes to tuck me up?"
"It's difficult to say. Be as natural as you can. I mean, if he just knocks lightly and looks in, be asleep. Don't overdo the snoring. But if he makes a hell of a noise, you'll have to wake up and rub your eyes, and wonder what on earth he's doing in your room at all. You know the sort of thing."
"Right. And about the dummy figure. I'll make it up directly we come upstairs, and hide it under the bed."
"Yes. . . . I think we'd better go completely to bed ourselves. We shan't take a moment dressing again, and it will give him time to get safely into the passage. Then come into my room."
