'The hape is behaving very strange, m'lady,' said Wrench,
frostily.
It has been well said that in this world there is always
something. A moment before, Lady Wetherby had been feeling
completely contented, without a care on her horizon. It was
foolish of her to have expected such a state of things to last,
for what is life but a series of sharp corners, round each of
which Fate lies in wait for us with a stuffed eel-skin? Something
in the butler's manner, a sort of gloating gloom which he
radiated, told her that she had arrived at one of these corners
now.
'The hape is seated on the kitchen-sink, m'lady, throwing new-laid
eggs at the scullery-maid, and cook desired me to step up and ask
for instructions.'
'What!' Lady Wetherby rose in agitation. 'What's he doing that
for?' she asked, weakly.
A slight, dignified gesture was Wrench's only reply. It was not
his place to analyse the motives of monkeys.
'Throwing eggs!'
The sight of Lady Wetherby's distress melted the butler's stern
reserve. He unbent so far as to supply a clue.
'As I understand from cook, m'lady, the animal appears to have
taken umbrage at a lack of cordiality on the part of the cat. It
seems that the hape attempted to fondle the cat, but the latter
scratched him; being suspicious,' said Wrench, 'of his _bona
fides_.
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