name is not unknown in London, sir, especially in certain circles. I left the Duke's service, I may say, sir, for good reasons. I am not a snob; nor am I a puritan. I take great delight in the society of ladies, sir. I like to see a young man surround himself with attractive ladies. I enjoy arranging the pipes for the opium, sir, sterilizing the needles, and running for the doctor when a young lady has overdosed herself with vodka. It is very pleasant to serve breakfast for a numerous party that has forgotten to go home the night before, but I have my personal dignity, sir, and I left the Duke of Middlebottom.
Oliver, why did you leave the Duke?
One of his young ladies wished to whip me, sir. The incident aroused the Duke. He forgot himself, sir. May I say good-night, sir?
Good-night, Oliver.
Harold fell back against the pillow, his aching head throbbing with horror. Not that he fully understood all that Drains had intended to imply. Needles baffled him, and pipes. Didn't people eat opium and wasn't it a Chinese vice? Obviously, however, Drains had lived with a man of the lowest type, no matter how many points there were in his coronet. And this was the fellow his father had chosen to be his servant! A man who began by offering him cocktails and ended by asking if a young lady would share his breakfast in bed! What were his father's intentions? What would
