“The door-knocker, Herr Docktor, is misnamed. Knuckles knock…” said Herbert giving the door three resounding knocks with his knuckles, “…door-knockers, rap!” He demonstrated his contention and the door-knocker rapped-out three sharp retorts in marked contrast to the previously administered knuckle-knocks.
“Anyway, there doesn’t appear to be anybody home,” concluded the Doctor.
“More’s the pity,” grinned Herbert eyeing the elaborately designed door-knocker with evident relish.
The two men turned to leave.
Just then the door opened and a long, leathery-tongue wrapped itself around the Doctor’s ankle and dragged him within.
Herbert walked on, his mind elsewhere, oblivious…