Death - no eating

“Don’t you know? This is the house of Death, lad. He brought you here last night.”

“I—sort of remember. Only”….

“Hmm?”

“Well. The bacon and eggs,” said Mort, vaguely. “It doesn’t seem, well, appropriate.”

“I’ve got some black pudding somewhere,” said Albert.

“No, I mean…” Mort hesitated. “It’s just that I can’t see him sitting down to a couple of rashers
and a fried slice.”

Albert grinned. “Oh, he doesn’t, lad. Not as a regular thing, no. Very easy to cater for, the master.
I just cook for me and—” he paused—“the young lady, of course.”

***

Mort p24