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Updated: May 29, 2025
'Sorry to keep you waiting, Nella. It was Mr Racksole, the intrepid millionaire who had dared to order an Angel Kiss in the smoke-room of the Grand Babylon. Nella her proper name was Helen smiled at her parent cautiously, reserving to herself the right to scold if she should feel so inclined. 'You always are late, father, she said. 'Only on a holiday, he added. 'What is there to eat?
In his novel and detached position he realised a sense of independence; he was breathing a new existence, an exhilarating atmosphere, and enjoying every hour of the day. At table and in the smoke-room he picked up a certain amount of useful information respecting Burma, listened to many a "Don't" with polite attention, and was offered the address of a fairly good chummery in Rangoon.
You cannot deny that this is a sensible question: Which is the better for an English gentleman, to use all the strength and valor that is entrusted him we are taught there will be a reckoning when he must account for them subduing savage Nature, that the hungry may eat cheaper bread, or lounging about a racecourse, shooting driven pheasants I know it needs high skill or wasting precious hours in the reeking smoke-room of his club?
Jubal Perkins had gone into the house for a coal to re-kindle his pipe, for there is always a smouldering fire in the "smoke-room" for the purpose of drying the hides suspended from the rafters. He came out with it freshly glowing, and sat down on the broad, high pile of wood.
Benton looked up quickly and his eyes met those of the Spaniard with a swiftly flashed message which excluded Harcourt. "This fellow and I were on the same boat coming over to Valetta," continued the young tourist. "One night in the smoke-room, the steward was filling the glasses pretty frequently. At last he became confidential." "Yes?" prompted Benton.
"Bert's my cousin," she answered. "He's English right through. You'd like Bert. He's in the smoke-room. Bert and I are great chums." "Are you staying here alone together?" Merefleet enquired. She nodded. "Bert is taking care of me," she explained. "He's like a son to me. I call him my English bull-dog. I just love bull-dogs, Mr. Merefleet." Merefleet was silent.
"Has Colonel Menendez taken you into a little snuggery or smoke-room which faces his bedroom in the southeast corner of the house?" "No, but Miss Beverley has mentioned the room." "Ah. Well, there is a light in that room, Knox." "Possibly the Colonel has not retired?" "According to Madame de Staemer he went to bed several hours ago, you may remember."
The smoke-room was a good-sized, comfortable apartment, furnished with every convenience that smokers are supposed to require. It looked out, by two long windows, on a wide sweep of lawn which stretched away from the end of the house. In this room, in chairs of various luxurious styles, sat Mr. Caske and his two friends.
The lad paused in his walk, awaiting results. And they were not long in coming, for a few minutes later the quartermaster emerged, quickly followed by the purser, who, taking up a position midway between the smoke-room and the block of cabins abaft it which space Dick now saw was occupied by several groups of men and women cleared his voice and then proclaimed in ringing accents: "Ladies and gentlemen, this paper which I hold in my hand is a message which has just been brought to me from Captain Prowse, and it contains news which I am sure will be very welcome to you all.
Savage will be in the smoke-room forward, sir." "Very well. Tell Miss Killigrew that I shall come aboard." "Thank you, sir. The motor-boat will be at the jetty at nine-thirty, sir." The servants about the Killigrew home understood Thomas' position. They had known young honorables who had served as private secretaries. A formal command. There was no way of avoiding it.
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