"Coffee ready, Grooton?"
"In one moment, sir."
I watched him bending over the stove, pale, dark-visaged, with the subdued manners and voice which mark the aristocracy of servitude. My employer's confidence in him must be immense, for while he watched over me I was practically in his power.
"Have you been long with the Duke, Grooton?" I asked him.
"Twenty-one years, sir. I left his Grace to go to Lord Chelsford, who found me some work in London."
"Secret service work, wasn't it, Grooton?"
"Yes, sir."
"Interesting?"
"Some parts of it very interesting, sir."
I nodded and drank my coffee. Grooton was watching me with an air of respectful interest.