“When I came into this room,” continued the Invisible Man, after presenting the poker to the tip of the nose of each of his visitors, “I did not expect to find it occupied, and I expected to find, in addition to my books of memoranda, an outfit of clothing.  Where is it?  No—­don’t rise.  I can see it’s gone.  Now, just at present, though the days are quite warm enough for an invisible man to run about stark, the evenings are quite chilly.  I want clothing—­and other accommodation; and I must also have those three books.”

CHAPTER XII

THE INVISIBLE MAN LOSES HIS TEMPER

It is unavoidable that at this point the narrative should break off again, for a certain very painful reason that will presently be apparent.  While these things were going on in the parlour, and while Mr. Huxter was watching Mr. Marvel smoking his pipe against the gate, not a dozen yards away were Mr. Hall and Teddy Henfrey discussing in a state of cloudy puzzlement the one Iping topic.

Suddenly there came a violent thud against the door of the parlour, a sharp cry, and then—­silence.

“Hul-lo!” said Teddy Henfrey.

“Hul-lo!” from the Tap.

Mr. Hall took things in slowly but surely.  “That ain’t right,” he said, and came round from behind the bar towards the parlour door.

He and Teddy approached the door together, with intent faces.  Their eyes considered.  “Summat wrong,” said Hall, and Henfrey nodded agreement.  Whiffs of an unpleasant chemical odour met them, and there was a muffled sound of conversation, very rapid and subdued.

“You all right thur?” asked Hall, rapping.

The muttered conversation ceased abruptly, for a moment silence, then the conversation was resumed, in hissing whispers, then a sharp cry of “No! no, you don’t!” There came a sudden motion and the oversetting of a chair, a brief struggle.  Silence again.

“What the dooce?” exclaimed Henfrey, sotto voce.

“You—­all—­right thur?” asked Mr. Hall, sharply, again.

The Vicar’s voice answered with a curious jerking intonation:  “Quite ri-right.  Please don’t—­interrupt.”

“Odd!” said Mr. Henfrey.

“Odd!” said Mr. Hall.

“Says, ‘Don’t interrupt,’” said Henfrey.

“I heerd’n,” said Hall.

“And a sniff,” said Henfrey.

They remained listening.  The conversation was rapid and subdued. 
“I can’t,” said Mr. Bunting, his voice rising; “I tell you, sir,
I will not.”

“What was that?” asked Henfrey.

“Says he wi’ nart,” said Hall.  “Warn’t speaking to us, wuz he?”

“Disgraceful!” said Mr. Bunting, within.

“‘Disgraceful,’” said Mr. Henfrey.  “I heard it—­distinct.”

“Who’s that speaking now?” asked Henfrey.

“Mr. Cuss, I s’pose,” said Hall.  “Can you hear—­anything?”