“She’s got fleas,” he said, following her out of the room. Through the door in the hall leading to the basement he called “ Hssst! ” several times, as though assisting the cat’s departure, till by some strange coincidence the butler appeared below.

“You can go to bed, Parfitt,” said old Jolyon. “I will lock up and put out.”

When he again entered the dining-room the cat unfortunately preceded him, with her tail in the air, proclaiming that she had seen through this manouevre for suppressing the butler from the first.⁠ ⁠…

A fatality had dogged old Jolyon’s domestic stratagems all his life.