“Me?” said Sam.
“I should take it as a personal favour to myself if you would engage Twist. I naturally dislike the idea of an old and—er—faithful employee of mine being out of work.”
Mr. Twist’s foresight was justified. Put in this way, the request was one that Sam found it difficult to refuse.
“Oh, well, in that case——”
“Excellent! No doubt you will find plenty of little things for him to do about your house and garden.”
“He can wash the dog,” said Sam, inspired. The question of the bathing of Amy was rapidly thrusting itself into the forefront of the domestic politics of Mon Repos.
“Exactly! And chop wood and run errands and what not.”
“There’s just one thing,” said Sam, who had been eying his new assistant with growing aversion. “That moustache must come off.”
“What?” cried Chimp, stricken to the core.
“Right off at the roots,” said Sam sternly. “I will not have a thing like that about the place, attracting the moths.”