there was not an instant's hesitation in the clock-like
assiduity of his movements, as he bestowed handkerchiefs,
in one drawer, socks in another, hung pyjamas before the fire,
and set the patent-leather pumps against the fender.
Even the old Mexican shooting-suit seemed in no way to
disconcert him. He drew forth its constituent elements
as with a practised hand; when he had hung them up,
sombrero and all, in the wardrobe against the wall,
they had the trick of making that venerable oaken receptacle
look as if it had been fashioned expressly for them.

Thorpe's earlier uneasiness quite lost itself in his
admiration for Pangbourn's resourceful dexterity.
The delighted thought that now he would be needing a man
like this for himself crossed his mind. Conceivably he might
even get this identical Pangbourn--treasure though he were.
Money could command everything on this broad globe--and why
not Pangbourn? He tentatively felt of the coins in his pocket,
as it became apparent that the man's task was nearing
completion--and then frowned at himself for forgetting
that these things were always reserved for the end of a visit.

"Will you dress now, sir?" asked Pangbourn. His soft,
distinct enunciation conveyed the suggestion of centuries
of training.

"Eh?" said Thorpe, finding himself for the moment behind
the other's thought.

"Shall you require me any further, sir?" the man reframed