"I'm not. But I'm your boss; that is, while you're in this house. If you don't like it, blame yourself. You invented this valet stuff. Now live up to it. Keep your own place or you'll have everything coming down in a grand smash."
Pete looked up at him sourly.
"Bill, you act jealous."
"Who? Me? Bull!"
"Bill, you are jealous."
"Don't be an ass. I don't even know the lady. She's nothing to me. But I intend to protect Aunt Caroline's guests——"
Bill was cut short by a knock and a message from a maid. Following its receipt, he walked over to the dresser and examined his scarf.
"Brush me off," he commanded.
"Go to the devil," remarked his valet. "And look here, Bill; play this square. Don't you go taking advantage of my position. Be a sport now. And if Gray Eyes——"
Bill was out of the room.