'Certainly not with you, sir,' was the flippant reply of the valet.
'Here is her name and address. You will know her again when you see her, but she must not know you. Find out all about her—who she is living with, and all the rest of it—and you will do for me that which nothing can repay.'
'By jingo, sir, I would rather do something that could be repaid.'
'Here is a fiver, anyway, and now be off.'
Duly instructed, a couple of days afterwards, and disguised by a false beard and moustache, and clad in a tolerably accurate morning suit, Mr. John Gaiters, turning up his already tip-tilted nose at having to traverse so unaristocratic a locality as Paddington, soon found the terrace and the number, and after an external survey of the house, by means of the knocker brought to the door a little maid-of-all-work, on whose cheeks was the black smudge so usual to her class.
'Is your mistress at home?' he inquired, blandly.
'Yes, sir.'
'Ah, is she handsome? But I need not ask,' he added, insinuatingly.
'Why, sir?'
'Because, unless her beauty were not of a more than ordinary character, she could not afford to have one so excelling as you by her side.'