"If you will pardon me, sir," he observed, "I was deeply distressed to see that Little Eva had lost, very deeply distressed."
Tony took off his coat and hat, and handed them over to his sorrowing retainer.
"Ah well, Ropes," he remarked, "we've had a pleasant time while it lasted. You must go to Lord North; he's been pestering me to give you up for years. You'll have a bigger scope there for your peculiar abilities."
Ropes shook his head.
"I shall be sorry to disappoint his lordship, sir, but it would be impossible for me to accept another place. If you can no longer retain my services, I shall retire."
"I suppose you are very rich, Ropes?" said Tony sadly.
Ropes bowed. "Quite comfortably off, thank you, sir. I trust, sir, that, if you will excuse my mentioning such a matter, the question of wages will not lead you to dismiss me before it is quite convenient. I should be deeply distressed if you allowed such a consideration to influence you, sir."
"You shall at least have the felicity of helping me dress for dinner, Ropes," said Tony gravely. "We will discuss these unpleasantly sordid topics to-morrow morning."
Half an hour later a taxi pulled up outside Musette's house in Curzon Street, and Tony, faultlessly accoutred, stepped out. He was shown into a room on the left of the hall, where Musette, gracefully slender in a dark blue evening frock, was sitting back in an easy chair, turning over the pages of a novel.
"It will be a duet," she said, holding out her hand, which Tony kissed; "poor Aunt Jemima is in bed with a headache."