"Did you hear what I said? Go and tell him I'm here."
"Did you hear what I said, that Sir Charles ain't stir-run'?"
"It'll be as much as your place is worth, my man, if you don't do what I tell you. Have I been here before, or 'ave I not? Have I been let in to him at once before, or 'ave I not? Does he see me d'rectly you tell him who's waitin', or does he not? Now--go."
This speech had such an effect upon Mr. Banks, who remembered that the little man only spoke the truth in his statement of the readiness with which Sir Charles always saw him, that he opened the door, showed Mr. Effingham into the billiard-room (which was decorated with empty tumblers, fragments of lemon-peel, tobacco-ash, and other remnants of the preceding night, and smelt powerfully of stale tobacco), suggested that he should "knock the balls about a bit," and went up to tell his master.
When he returned he said, "He's just finished dressin', and I'm to take you up in five minutes. You seem quite a favourite of his."
Mr. Effingham laughed. "Yes," he said; "he and I understand one another."
Mr. Banks looked at him for a moment, and then said, "Was you ever in the Pacific?"
"In the what?"
"The Pacific."
Mr. Effingham changed colour. He did not half like this. He thought it was the name of some prison, and that the valet had found him out. But he put a bold face on and said, "What's the Pacific?"