"You’ll be cold, sure," he said.  "I’ll let you in and show you the bath-room; there’ll be hot water.  I’ll garage the car, and by the time you’re dry I’ll be back.  I don’t dare wake my housekeeper.  The last trump wouldn’t get her out of bed before half-past seven.  But her heart is never cold, and at half-past eight she’ll give us a breakfast fit for the three kings of Carrickmagree.  Not but what we’ll forage out something before then."