The door opened and Peddle appeared.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Oliver—but your man——”
“Yes? What about him? Is he misbehaving himself? Kissing the maids?”
“No, sir,” said Peddle—“but none of them can get on with their work. He has drunk two quart jugs of beer and wants a third.”
“Well, give it to him.”
“I shouldn’t like to see the man intoxicated, sir,” said Peddle.
“You couldn’t. No one has or ever will.”
“He is also standing on his head, sir, in the middle of the kitchen table.”
“It’s his great parlour-trick. You just try to do it, Peddle—especially after two quarts of beer. He’s showing his gratitude, poor chap—just like the juggler of Notre-Dame in the story. And I’m sure everybody’s enjoying themselves?”
“The maids are nearly in hysterics, sir.”