"Is Mr. Paget within?"
The man stared. The voice was not only refined, but to a certain extent familiar. The voice, oh, yes; but then the figure, the thin, long reed-like figure, slouching forward with weakness, buttoned up tight in the seedy frock coat whose better days must have been a matter of the very distant past.
"Is Mr. Paget within?"
The tone was so assured and even peremptory that the servant, in spite of himself, was overawed.
"I believe so, sir," he said.
"Ask if I can see him."
"Mr. Paget is not very well, sir, and it is late."
"Ask if I can see him."
The footman turned a little surly.
"I'll inquire," he said; "he's sure to say no, but I'll inquire. Your name, if you please. My master will require to know your name."