«I agree with you, Mr. Graves — his lordship and me have never held with being narrow-minded — why, yes, my dear, of course it's a footmark, this is the washstand linoleum. A good Jew can be a good man, that's what I've always said. And regular hours and considerate habits have a great deal to recommend them. Very simple in his tastes, now, Sir Reuben, isn't he? for such a rich man, I mean.»
«Very simple indeed,» said the cook, «the meals he and her ladyship have when they're by themselves with Miss Rachel — well, there now — if it wasn't for the dinners, which is always good when there's company, I'd be wastin' my talents and education here, if you understand me, Mr. Bunter.»
Mr. Bunter added the handle of the umbrella to his collection, and began to pin a sheet across the window, aided by the housemaid.
«Admirable,» said he. «Now, if I might have this blanket on the table and another on a towel-horse or something of that kind by way of a background — you're very kind, Mrs. Pemming… Ah! I wish his lordship never wanted valeting at night. Many's the time I've sat up till three and four, and up again to call him early to go off Sherlocking at the other end of the country. And the mud he gets on his clothes and his boots!»
«I'm sure it's a shame, Mr. Bunter,» said Mrs. Pemming, warmly. «Low, I calls it. In my opinion, police-work ain't no fit occupation for a gentleman, let alone a lordship.»
«Everything made so difficult, too,» said Mr. Bunter, nobly sacrificing his employer's character and his own feelings in a good cause; «boots chucked into a corner, clothes hung up on the floor, as they say — »
«That's often the case with these men as are born with a silver spoon in their mouths,» said Mr. Graves. «Now, Sir Reuben, he's never lost his good old-fashioned habits. Clothes folded up neat, boots put out in his dressing-room, so as a man could get them in the morning, everything made easy.»
«He forgot them the night before last, though.»
«The clothes, not the boots. Always thoughtful for others, is Sir Reuben. Ah! I hope nothing's happened to him.»
«Indeed, no, poor gentleman,» chimed in the cook, «and as for what they're sayin', that he'd 'ave gone out surrepshous-like to do something he didn't ought, well, I'd never believe it of him, Mr. Bunter not if I was to take my dying oath upon it.»