There was nothing definite
against his character at this time, save that he had never remained for
long in any one situation.
His experience was varied, if his references were limited; he had served
not only as valet, but also as chauffeur, as steward on an ocean liner,
and, for a limited period, as temporary butler in an American household
at Nice.
Soames' banking account had increased steadily, but not at a rate
commensurate with his ambitions; therefore, when entering his name and
qualifications in the books of a certain exclusive employment agency
in Mayfair he determined to avail himself, upon this occasion, of
his comparative independence by waiting until kindly Fate should cast
something really satisfactory in his path.
Such an opening occurred very shortly after his first visit to the
agent. He received a card instructing him to call at the office in order
to meet a certain Mr. Gianapolis. Quitting his rooms in Kennington, Mr.
Soames, attired in discreet black, set out to make the acquaintance of
his hypothetical employer.
He found Mr. Gianapolis to be a little and very swarthy man, who held
his head so low as to convey the impression of having a pronounced
stoop; a man whose well-cut clothes and immaculate linen could not
redeem his appearance from a constitutional dirtiness.
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