"Oh!" murmured Edward Henry.
He felt a careless contempt for Joseph's flunkeyism. Hitherto he had
had the theory that footmen, valets and all male personal attendants
were an inexcusable excrescence on the social fabric. The mere sight
of them often angered him, though for some reason he had no objection
whatever to servility in a nice-looking maid--indeed, rather enjoyed
it. But now, in the person of Joseph, he saw that there were human or
half-human beings born to self-abasement, and that, if their destiny
was to be fulfilled, valetry was a necessary institution. He had no
pity for Joseph, no shame in employing him. He scorned Joseph; and yet
his desire, as a man-about-town, to keep Joseph's esteem, was in no
way diminished!
"Shall I prepare your bath, sir?" asked Joseph, stationed in a supple
attitude by the side of the bed.
Edward Henry was visited by an idea.
"Have you had yours?" he demanded like a pistol-shot.
Edward Henry saw that Sir Nicholas had never asked that particular
question.
"No, sir."
"Not had your bath, man! What on earth do you mean by it? Go and have
your bath at once!"
A faint sycophantic smile lightened the amazed features of Joseph. And
Edward Henry thought: "It's astonishing, all the same, the way they
can read their masters. This chap has seen already that I'm a card.
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