But there!
let us get on with our work. Now, about this expedition to Kertch?"
And Sir Humphrey proceeded to discuss and dispose of great questions
of supply in a prompt, off-hand way that both silenced and terrified
Mr. Faulks.
CHAPTER V.
MR. FAULKS TALKS.
Mr. Faulks was rather fond of good living, and, as a rule, he never
allowed official cares to interfere with his lunch, a meal brought in
on a tray from an eating-house in the Strand. To make a proper
selection from the bill of fare sent in every morning was a weighty
matter, taking precedence over any other work, however pressing.
But to-day he scarcely enjoyed the haricot of lamb with new potatoes
and young peas that he found waiting, and slightly cold, when he went
downstairs to his own room.
"For two pins I'd take my retirement; I can claim it; where would they
be then?"
This estimable personage shared with thousands the strange
superstition that the world cannot do without them.
"This cook is falling off most terribly. The lamb is uneatable, the
potatoes are waxy, and the peas like pills. Ugh! I never made a worse
lunch!"
A large cigar and the perusal of the long-neglected _Times_ did not
pacify him much, and he was still fretting and fuming when his
messenger brought in a three-cornered note and asked if there was any
reply.
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