After contemplating his appearance for several moments, Carstares frowned and looked over his shoulder.

“I have changed my mind, Jim. I will wear blue after all.” Salter sighed despairingly.

“Ye look very well in what ye have on, sir,” he grunted. Jack sat down obstinately.

“I have conceived a dislike⁠—nay, a veritable hatred⁠—for puce. I will wear blue.”

“Now, sir, do ha’ done changing your clothes! Ye’ll be tired out before ever ye get downstairs, and ye know what the doctor said.”

My lord consigned the doctor and his words of wisdom to a place of great heat.

“Ay, sir, but⁠—”