I presume he is downstairs. I wish you would ask him to bring
the touring car around at once. And you might have a light overcoat
ready for me--Jason."
"Yes, sir," said the old man. "Yes, Master Jim, sir, at once." His eyes
sought Jimmie Dale's, and dropped--but into them had come, not the
questioning of familiarity, but the quick, anxious questioning inspired
by the affection that had grown up between them from the days when, as
the old man was so fond of saying, he had dandled his Master Jim upon
his knee. "Yes, sir, Master Jim, at once, sir," Jason repeated--but he
still hesitated upon the threshold.
And then Jimmie Dale shook his head whimsically--and smiled.
"No--not to-night, Jason," he said reassuringly. "It's quite all right,
Jason--there's no letter to-night."
The old man's face cleared instantly.
"Yes, sir; quite so, sir. Thank you, Master Jim," he said. "Shall I tell
Benson that he is to drive you, sir, or--"
"No; I'll drive myself, Jason," decided Jimmie Dale.
"Yes, sir--very good, sir"--the door closed on Jason.
Jimmie Dale turned back into the room, began to pace up and down its
length, and for a moment the reverie that the telephone had interrupted
was again dominant in his mind.
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