"I'm sorry, sir," said my butler as he turned on the electric switch in my bedroom, "but I didn't expect you back this evening, and so I told Martin he might go out."
A wave of irritation, almost of anger, swept over me. Martin was my perfect valet.
"What the devil did you do that for!" I snapped.
Then, realizing my inconsistency, I was ashamed, utterly humiliated and disgusted with myself. This, then, was all that my resolution amounted to after all!
"I am very sorry, sir," repeated my butler. "Very sorry, sir, indeed.
Shall I help you off with your things?"
"Oh, that's all right!" I exclaimed, somewhat to his surprise. "Don't bother about me. I'll take care of myself."
"Can't I bring you something?" he asked solicitously.
"No, thanks!" said I. "I don't need anything that you can give me!"
"Very good, sir," he replied. "Good night, sir."
"Good night," I answered, and he closed the door noiselessly.