But whether the
duke owed the general respect he enjoyed to the genuineness of his
pedigree or to the fact that he owned a vast amount of very valuable
property was a point about which Mr. Fisher's opinion might have
been more interesting to discover.
"You were looking so comfortable," said Fisher, "that I thought you
must be one of the servants. I'm looking for somebody to take this
bag of mine; I haven't brought a man down, as I came away in a
hurry."
"Nor have I, for that matter," replied the duke, with some pride. "I
never do. If there's one animal alive I loathe it's a valet. I
learned to dress myself at an early age and was supposed to do it
decently. I may be in my second childhood, but I've not go so far as
being dressed like a child."
"The Prime Minister hasn't brought a valet; he's brought a secretary
instead," observed Fisher. "Devilish inferior job. Didn't I hear
that Harker was down here?"
"He's over there on the landing stage," replied the duke,
indifferently, and resumed the study of the Morning Post.
Fisher made his way beyond the last green wall of the garden on to a
sort of towing path looking on the river and a wooden island
opposite. There, indeed, he saw a lean, dark figure with a stoop
almost like that of a vulture, a posture well known in the law
courts as that of Sir John Harker, the Attorney-General.
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