"Then your woe undoubtedly proceeds from stomach; for the emptiness of same I prescribe ham, shall we say mingled—judiciously blended—with beef—"
"Abhorrent thought!" I exclaimed. At this moment, after a discreet knock on the door, my valet Clegg entered.
"Sir," said he in his soft and toneless voice, "the groom is below; shall you ride or drive this morning?"
"Neither!" I answered, whereupon Clegg bowed and withdrew.
"Excellent!" nodded Anthony. "Nothing like walking to make an empty stomach aware of its vacuity. By the way, queer article that Clegg fellow of yours—face like a mask! Where did you pick him up?"
"I don't remember. He had excellent references, I believe. Why do you ask?"
"Fancy I've seen him before. Come, let us adventure forth in search of your appetite."
To us in the hall came Clegg to bring our hats and canes.
"Were you ever in the service of a Captain Danby?" enquired Anthony, his keen gaze on Clegg's impassive face.
"Yes, sir, I was valet to Captain Marmaduke Danby—two years ago."