Generally they drove through the park, up and down Riverside, and back
to the hotel in time for tea. Mr. Thornden drank tea for breakfast
along with his bacon and eggs, and at luncheon with his lamb or mutton
chops, and at five o'clock with especially baked muffins and
apple-tarts.
Mr. Thornden never gave orders personally; his man always attended to
that. The master would, early each morning, outline the day's work,
and the man would see to it that these instructions were fulfilled to
the letter. He was an excellent servant, by the way, light of foot,
low of voice, serious of face, with a pair of eyes which I may liken to
nothing so well as to a set of acetylene blow-pipes--bored right
through you.
The master was middle-aged, about the same height and weight as his
valet. He wore a full dark beard, something after the style of the
early eighties of last century. His was also a serious countenance,
tanned, dignified too; but his eyes were no match for his valet's; too
dreamy, introspective. Screwed in his left eye was a monocle down from
which flowed a broad ribbon.
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