The talk..

He took out a brochure from his pocket, and handed it over, quivering, to his employer's look.

Lord Edward read the description carefully, the corners of his long mouth lifted into a faint smile.

"It's Greek to me," he said, "and £50 appears a very high price for a few bits of glass. I suppose, Bulter, you'd say £750 was a bit out of the way for a filthy antique book in a dead language, wouldn't you, huh??"

"It would not be my place to say that, my lord."

"No, Bulter, I pay you £200 a year to keep your idea to yourself only. Explain me, Bulter, in these democratic days, don't you supppse that is unfair?"

"No, my lord."

"You don't. Do you mind telling me clearly why you don't think it is not fair?"

"Honestly, my lord, your lordship is paid a nobleman's salary to take Lady Worthington in to dinner and stop from exercising your lordship's undoubted powers of repartee."

Lord Edward considered this statement.

"That is your idea, is it, Bulter? Noblesse oblige—for a thought towards it. I daresay you're correct. Then you are better off, than I am, because I would have to behave myself to Lady Worthington if I hadn't a penny. Bulter, if I sacked you here and now, would you tell me what you think about me?"