“Thanks, no; I’m in a hurry. Time is of great value just now.”
“Although I am very stupid in the morning, as I told you, nevertheless the moment you came in I surmised you were in a hurry. For whom are you working, Mr. Mackeller?”
“Working? What do you mean?”
“Who is your employer, or are you on your own, as the vulgar say?”
“Why, my lord, I understood I was in your employ.”
“In that case why don’t you sit down when I tell you to?” asked his lordship with a slight laugh.
Peter Mackeller dropped into a chair with such suddenness that the laugh of his chief became more pronounced.
“You see, Peter, my boy, it is a rule of the world that the man who pays for the music calls the tune. You say it is to be a quick-step: I insist upon a minuet. How do you like those cigarettes?”
“They are excellent, my lord.”
“Not half bad, I think. You don’t mind my going on with breakfast, and I am sure you will excuse me if I fail to regard this table as a quick lunch counter. I think our sturdiness as a nation depends very largely on our slowness at meals.”