"Oh, tea--undoubtedly tea," Beaver answered hastily.
"Oh! by the way, Mrs Wayzgoose," Humphrey said. "These ... these bulrushes...."
"_Bulrushes!_" echoed Mrs Wayzgoose, losing her placidity all of a sudden. There was an icy silence. Beaver seemed to be enjoying it.
"Pray, what of my bulrushes?" demanded the masterful Mrs Wayzgoose.
"Don't you think ... I mean ... wouldn't the room be lighter without them?"
"Without them?" The way she echoed his words, her voice rising in its scale, reminded him of the wolf's replies to Red Riding Hood before making a meal of her. "Are you aware, Mr Quain, that those bulrushes have been there for the last thirty years."
"I was not aware of it, but I am not surprised to hear it," Humphrey answered politely.
"And that never a complaint has been made about them."
"I _am_ surprised to hear that," he murmured.
"The last gentleman who had these rooms," continued Mrs Wayzgoose, "he _was_ a gentleman, in spite of being coffee-coloured, was a law student. Mr Hilfi Abbas. He took the rooms _because_ of the bulrushes. Said they reminded him of the Nile. I could let these rooms over and over again to Egyptian gentlemen while these bulrushes are there...." And with that she flounced out of the room in a whirl of skirts, with her ear-rings rocking to the headshakes which punctuated her remarks.
"There you are," said Beaver, as the door closed behind her. "What did I tell you?"
Humphrey laughed, and shook his fist at the offending bulrushes. "They'll go somehow, you see."
When all the unpacking was finished, the pipes put in the pipe-rack, the tobacco-jar on the table, and the photographs of his mother, his father and his aunt placed on the mantelpiece, the question of food came uppermost in his mind. Beaver told him that he had accepted an invitation to supper.
"I met a chap on a job whom I knew years ago. We were both reporters together in Hull, on a weekly there. I didn't know you'd be coming up this evening or I wouldn't have arranged to go there."
"Well, it doesn't matter," said Humphrey. "I can manage for myself. Don't let me upset your arrangements."
"Look here," Beaver said suddenly. "Why shouldn't you come with me. It's only cold supper and they won't mind a bit. I'll explain things. Besides," he added, as he noticed Humphrey was hesitating, "Tommy Pride will be one of your new colleagues. He's on _The Day_. You might be able to pick up a few tips from him."