surprised a conclave between the butler, Moxley, and his satellites,
reinforced by Lady Ragnall's maid and two other female servants.

"Gratuities!" Moxley was exclaiming, which I thought a fine word for
tips, "not a smell of them! His gratuities were--'Damn your eyes, you
fat bottle-washer,' being his name for butler. /My/ eyes, mind you,
Ann, not Alfred's or William's, and that because he had tumbled over
his own rugs. Gentleman! Why, I name him a hog with his litter."

"Hogs don't have litters, Mr. Moxley," observed Ann smartly.

"Well, young woman, if there weren't no hogs, there'd be no litters,
so there! However, he won't root about in this castle no more, for I
happened to catch a word or two of what passed between him and her
Ladyship last night. He said straight out that she was making love to
that little Mr. Quatermain who wanted her money, and probably not for
the first time as they had forgathered in Africa. A gentleman, mind
you, Ann, who although peculiar, I like, and who, the keeper Charles
tells me, is the best shot in the whole world."

"And what did she say to that?" asked Ann.

"What did she say? What didn't she say, that's the question. It was
just as though all the furniture in the room got up and went for them
Smiths. Well, having heard enough, and more than I wanted, I stepped
off with the tray and next minute out they all come and grab the
bedroom candlesticks. That's all and there's her Ladyship's bell.
Alfred, don't stand gaping there but go and light the hot-plates."

So they melted away and I descended from the landing, indignant but