Stevens with his pallid glance
on the array of bottles. "'Three Star,' I think, Mr. Brimberly?"
"Sir," sighed Mr. Brimberly in gentle reproach, "you 'ere be'old Cognac
brandy as couldn't be acquired for twenty-five dollars the bottle! Then
'ere we 'ave jubilee port, a rare old sherry, and whisky. Now what shall
we make it? You, being like myself, a Englishman in this 'ere land of
eagles, spread and otherwise, suppose we make it a B and a Hess?"
"By all means!" nodded Mr. Stevens.
"I was meditating," said Mr. Brimberly, busied with the bottles and
glasses, "I was cogitating calling hup Mr. Jenkins, the Stanways' butler
across the way. The Stanways is common people, parvynoo, Mr. Stevens,
parvynoo, but Mr. Jenkins is very superior and plays the banjer very
affecting. Our 'ousekeeper and the maids is gone to bed, and I've give
our footmen leave of habsence--I thought we might 'ave a nice, quiet
musical hour or so. You perform on the piano-forty, I believe, sir?"
"Only very occasional!" Mr. Stevens admitted. "But," and here his pale
eyes glanced toward the door, "do I understand as he is out for the
night?"
"Sir," said Mr.
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