Jeffery Farnol

The Definite Object


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MAKES FURTHER MENTION OF A RING

       CHAPTER XXVII

       MRS. TRAPES UPON THE MILLENNIUM

       CHAPTER XXVIII

       WHICH SHOULD HAVE RELATED DETAILS OF A WEDDING

       CHAPTER XXIX

       IN WHICH HERMIONE MAKES A FATEFUL DECISION

       CHAPTER XXX

       HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE DEPARTED FROM HELL'S KITCHEN

       CHAPTER XXXI

       IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES A HAND

       CHAPTER XXXII

       OF HARMONY AND DISCORD

       CHAPTER XXXIII

       OF TRAGEDY

       CHAPTER XXXIV

       OF REMORSE

       CHAPTER XXXV

       HOW GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE CAME OUT OF THE DARK

       CHAPTER XXXVI

       CONCERNING A CLEW

       CHAPTER XXXVII

       THE WOES OF MR. BRIMBERLY

       CHAPTER XXXVIII

       IN WHICH SOAPY TAKES UPON HIMSELF A NEW ROLE

       CHAPTER XXXIX

       THE OLD UN ADVISES AND RAVENSLEE ACTS

       CHAPTER XL

       CONCERNING A HANDFUL OF PEBBLES

       CHAPTER XLI

       OF A PACKET OF LETTERS

       CHAPTER XLII

       TELLS HOW RAVENSLEE BROKE HIS WORD AND WHY

       CHAPTER XLIII

       HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN

       CHAPTER XLIV

       RETRIBUTION

       CHAPTER XLV

       OF THE OLD UN AND FATE

       CHAPTER XLVI

       IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      In the writing of books, as all the world knows, two things are above all other things essential—the one is to know exactly when and where to leave off, and the other to be equally certain when and where to begin.

      Now this book, naturally enough, begins with Mr. Brimberly's whiskers; begins at that moment when he coughed and pulled down his waistcoat for the first time. And yet (since action is as necessary to the success of a book as to life itself) it should perhaps begin more properly at the psychological moment when Mr. Brimberly coughed and pulled down the garment aforesaid for the third time, since it is then that the real action of this story commences.

      Be that as it may, it is beyond all question that nowhere in this wide world could there possibly be found just such another pair of whiskers as those which adorned the plump cheeks of Mr. Brimberly; without them he might have been only an ordinary man, but, possessing them, he was the very incarnation of all that a butler could possibly be.

      And what whiskers these were! So soft, so fleecy, so purely white, that at times they almost seemed like the wings of cherubim, striving to soar away and bear Mr. Brimberly into a higher and purer sphere. Again, what Protean whiskers were these, whose fleecy pomposity could overawe the most superior young footmen and reduce page-boys, tradesmen, and the lower orders generally, to a state of perspiring humility; to his equals how calmly aloof, how blandly dignified; and to those a misguided fate had set above him, how demurely deferential, how obligingly obsequious! Indeed, Mr. Brimberly's whiskers were all things to all men, and therein lay their potency.

      Mr. Brimberly then, pompous, affable, and most sedate, having motioned his visitor into his master's favourite chair, set down the tray of decanters and glasses upon the piano, coughed, and pulled down his waistcoat; and Mr. Brimberly did it all with that air of portentous dignity and leisurely solemnity which, together with his whiskers, made him the personality he was.

      "And you're still valeting for Barberton, are you, Mr. Stevens?" he blandly enquired.

      "I've