“Er—errum—Samuel,” said the doctor; “the fact is, I—er—we—er—we do not wish this—that you have seen just now—talked about downstairs.”
“Suttonly not! sir,” said the man sharply, though the moment before he had been chuckling to himself about how he would make cook laugh about the games being carried on in the study.
“Thank you, Samuel,” said the doctor, clearing his throat and gaining confidence as he went on. “The fact is, Samuel, a confidential servant ought to be trustworthy.”
“Suttonly, sir,” said Sam.
“And hear, see, and—”
“Say nothing, sir, of course. You may depend upon me, sir.”
“Thank you, Samuel. Well, after what you heard last night you will not be surprised that we have decided to go out to Egypt at once in search of Mr Harry Frere.”
“Not a bit, sir. Just what I should expect.”
“Exactly, Samuel. To go up the country means, you see, the necessity of dressing ourselves like the people out there.”
“Yes, sir; much better for the climate.”