“And so do I, father.—He’s my friend, and I’ll stick to him too.”
He said the latter words in the hall, as he put on his hat and took his cane, paused to light a very strong cigar of the kind her ladyship detested to smell in the house, and then, with his hat cocked defiantly on one side, sallied out, looking so small in Great Portland Place that he seemed lost.
As the door closed upon him, Lord Barmouth came out of the lavatory, and met Robbins the butler and a footman coming to clear away the lunch things.
Lord Barmouth looked up and down, and then took the pompous butler by the button.
“Robbins,” he said, “if her ladyship does not object, I shall not wear my second dress suit any more.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said the butler with solemn dignity.
“And, Robbins,” added his lordship, in a hurried whisper, “what did you do with that piece of tongue?”
“Took it down into the kitchen, my lord.”
“Ask Mrs Downes to give it back to you, Robbins—for me.”
“Yes, my lord.”