"Jupiter, of course," he said.
"I didn't see him," I replied, sadly. "I fell in with a beastly old bore who wouldn't let go of me. You showed me into the wrong room. Who was that old beggar, anyhow?"
"Beggar?" he cried. "Wrong room? Beggar?"
"Certainly," said I. "Beggar is mild, I admit. But he's all that and much more. Who is he?"
"I don't know what you mean," replied the Major Domo. "But you have been for the last hour with his Majesty himself."
"What?" I cried. "I—that old man—we—"
"The old gentleman was Jupiter. Didn't he tell you? He made a special effort to make you feel at home—put himself on a purely mortal basis—"
I fell back, limp and nerveless.
"What will he think of me?" I moaned, as I realized what had happened.