“Poor old Gerry,” he said thoughtfully. “If ever a man looked fit, he did.”

Ronny nodded.

“All that clock business seems so rotten now,” went on Jimmy. “It’s odd, isn’t it, why farce so often seems to get mixed up with tragedy?”

He was talking more or less at random, to give Ronny time to recover himself. The other moved restlessly.

“I wish that doctor would come. I want to know⁠—”

“Know what?”

“What he⁠—died of.”

Jimmy pursed up his lips.

“Heart?” he hazarded.

Ronny gave a short, scornful laugh.