“Excuse my speaking like this, sir, but I cannot help telling you, sir, that for some days now you have been neglecting your personal appearance, sir. What, you are going abroad, sir, in a lounge suit and dining out in such a costume? In New York or in London, you would never think of such a breach of etiquette.”
Ascott interrupted his man-servant’s flow of words with a look of weary discouragement:
“I shall do just what I choose, John; and let me tell you, it’s only out of consideration for your age and the years you have been with my family I don’t reprimand you severely for the liberties you take.”
The man dropped his eyes and with a chagrined air:
“I beg pardon, sir, it was only the interest I take in you, sir, made me say what I did.”
Ascott let the matter drop. Presently, his hands very busy adjusting a carnation in the buttonhole
of his coat, he asked:
“The Princess Danidoff did not ring up on the ’phone this afternoon.”
“No, sir; in fact it is several days now we have had no news of the princess.”
“Well, John,” grunted Ascott, turning stiffly and facing the man, “I am pleased to think it will go on so for a long time; I’ve had enough of the Princess Sonia Danidoff, she’s an ungrateful coquette. God knows how ready I was to love her, how gladly I would have devoted my life to her service, but she is crazy, crazy for another man, ... so much the worse for me! But there, that’s her look out ...”