“No, no, you wouldn’t do that, your Grace!” said Nettlebed, quailing.
“That, or engage a new valet,” said the Duke inexorably.
This terrible threat utterly subjugated Nettlebed, and in almost trembling haste he helped to array his master in his riding-dress.
“I am not in the least fatigued,” said the Duke, straightening his cravat.
“No, your Grace!”
“I shall not be knocked up,” said the Duke, walking over to the door.
“No, your Grace!”
“I shall dance into the small hours.”
“Yes, your Grace!”
“And,” pursued the Duke, opening the door, and casting a mischievous look at his cringing servitor, “I shall not engage a new valet!”