It turned out dinner wasn't ready. So it ended up with Comus excusing his biological clock dysfunction and Midlo asking us for more time to set up the table and finish cooking food. A swift look of reprimand might've crossed his face, but it went away as fast as it came, not giving me time to see if he was, indeed, as frustrated with his boss as I thought he was.
Personally, I didn't know how Midlo handled living with Comus tewnty-four hours a day, especially in a house where darkness crushed down on you like a big, black octopus. It must've been exhausting and suffocating. And we still hadn't seen his schizophrenic side pop up, something I truly wasn't eager to see.