The fierce struggle in which he was
engaged left him little time for hospitality, and for the last two weeks
his house had been comparatively deserted. He passed through the
empty rooms, changed in little except the absence of some valuable
monstrosities which had gone to replenish his capital. When he reached
his bedroom, he paused a moment at the open door.
"James!"
"Yes, sir," said James, appearing out of the shadow.
"What are you waiting for?"
"I thought you might be wanting something, sir."
"You were waiting there this morning; you were in the ante-room of my
study while I was writing. You were outside the blue room while I sat
at breakfast. You were at my elbow in the drawing-room late last night.
Now, James," continued Mr. Rushbrook, with his usual grave directness,
"I don't intend to commit suicide; I can't afford it, so keep your time
and your rest for yourself--you want it--that's a good fellow."
"Yes, sir."
"James!"
"Yes, sir."
Rushbrook extended his hand.
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