Jim eyed the waistcoat gloomily and nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did I not specify cream ground?”

“Yes, sir. I thought⁠—I thought that ’twas cream!”

“My good friend, it is⁠—it is⁠—I cannot say what it is. And pea-green!” he shuddered. “Remove it.”

Jim hurried forward and disposed of the offending garment.

“And bring me the broidered satin. Yes, that is it. It is particularly pleasing to the eye.”

“Yes, sir,” agreed the abashed Jim.

“You are excused this time,” added my lord, with a twinkle in his eye. “What are our two friends doing?”

Salter went back to the window.