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Prohack divined that something had happened. "I hope Brool hasn't dropped down dead," said he, realising the foolishness of his facetiousness as he spoke. Eve seemed to be pained. "Have you slept better?" she asked, solicitous. "I have slept so well that there's probably something wrong with me," said he. "Heavy sleep is a symptom of several dangerous diseases."
He knew that he was in a very good humour, capable of miracles, and he therefore determined that he would seize the opportunity to find the human side of Mr. Brool and make a friend of him. But the tea-tray was brought in by Mrs. Prohack, who was completely and severely dressed. She put down the tray and kissed her husband not as usual, but rather in the manner of a Roman matron, and Mr.
With a final wave of his hand, Wertheimer grasped the starting-lever. Its brool deepening, the Parrott stirred, shot forward abruptly. In two seconds it was fifty yards distant, its silhouette already blurred, its wheels lifting from the rim of the hollow. Then lightly it leaped, soared, parted the mists, vanished....
Prohack has retired for the night, sir," said Brool, who never permitted his employers merely to go to bed, "and wishes not to be disturbed." "Thank God!" breathed Mr. Prohack. "Yes, sir," said Brool, dutifully acquiescent. The next morning Eve behaved to her husband exactly as if nothing untoward had happened. She kissed and was kissed.
Machin came leaping and bounding down the stairs as if by magic. She had heard his voice, and her joy at his entry into his abode caused her to forget her parlour-maidenhood and to exhibit a humanity which pained Mr. Brool, who had been brought up in the strictest traditions of flunkeyism. Her joy pleased Mr. Prohack and he felt better. "Good morning, Machin," said he, quite blithely.
Then the champion struck the table with his clenched hand, and addressed the assembly. Wrath and sorrow were in his voice. It resembled the brool of lions heard afar by seafaring men upon some savage shore on a still night. "Famous deeds," he said, "are not wrought now amongst the Red Branch. I think we are all become women.
"Something's happened about that necklace since you left," said Eve, in a dull, even voice. "Oh! What?" "I don't know. But I saw Mr. Crewd the detective drive up to the house at a great pace. Then Brool came and knocked here, and as I didn't care to have to tell him that the door was locked, I kept quiet and he went away again. Mr. Crewd went away too. I saw him drive away." Mr.
On account of the interview of the previous evening he felt considerably nervous and foolish, and the butler suffered through no fault of the butler's. "I'm Mr. Prohack," said he, with self-conscious fierceness. "What's your name? Brool, eh? Take my overcoat and send Machin to me at once." He lit a cigarette to cover himself. The situation, though transient, had been sufficiently difficult.
And Eve as a hostess had gradually given up boring herself and her husband by large and stiff parties, and they had gone back to entertaining none but well-established and intimate friends with the maximum of informality as of old, to such an extent that occasionally in the vast and gorgeous dining-room of the noble mansion Eve would have the roast planted on the table and would carve it herself, also as of old; Brool did not seem to mind.
Prohack, sir," said Brool, in a quite ordinary tone, taking the hat and coat of his returned master in the hall of the noble mansion. Mr. Prohack started. "Give me back my hat and coat," said he. "Tell your mistress that I may not be in for dinner." And he fled.
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