He gave me a quick handshake, rapped on the window of the cab and as the vehicle slowed up, flung open the door and slipped out. A moment later he had disappeared among the shifting pedestrians on the Avenue.
When I got back I found that Larry was disposed to consider his feelings hurt. The affliction took the form of an attitude of exaggerated servitude which was irritating in the extreme. He wanted as much disciplining as a puppy.
However, something occurred almost at once that brought him out of it with a bump.
I asked him whether anything had happened in my absence.
“No, sir,” he answered in the true butler manner. “Nothing of any moment, sir.” His English was excellent when he wanted to make it so.
“What do you mean—nothing of any moment?” I demanded curiously.
“Why, nothing, sir, nothing happened at all.” He bowed deferentially. “Have you breakfasted, sir?”
I felt like kicking him. “Drop it, Larry,” I told him. “I don’t know what’s biting you and I haven’t the time to bother to find out. But if you take my advice, you’ll drop that butler business, you ignoramus. Now get out of it.”
Larry departed and I went to my desk to look up the address of some of my one-time friends and to drop a line to Mrs. Furneau. A moment later I rang for Larry.