[No idea where these are coming from. Sorry.] Double drabble.
“Batson resigned.” Marse said. “Found a place as a law clerk.”
‘Fortunate.” Jeeves had known the other valet was ambitious, but he hadn’t expected Batson to find such quick success. A few years reading law and, with the right allies, he might even rise to the bar.
“Foolish.” The older Ganymedian shook his head, as if to dislodge such foolish notions. “He’ll slave his life away, twisted between clients and partners, and for what? A Mayfair address, a fine suit, and a Bentley.”
“Better than slavery at five pounds a week.” He had no idea how demanding a senior law partner might be, but it could hardly exceed the hours expected by his current employment. Between Mrs. Nelson wanting breakfast at seven and Mr. Nelson staggering home at two?
“You think so? Marse smiled as a man in position of a secret. “I live in Mayfair, wear a suit, drive a Bentley – all without wrestling with anything more weighty than a bow tie.”
“Your master has a Bentley and a mansion, Mr. Marse.”
“My gentleman, Mr. Jeeves.” Marse lifted his wine glass, indicating the wish for a refill. “We are theirs. And properly managed? What is theirs is ours too.”
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Date: 2012-11-22 03:10 am (UTC)Double drabble.
“Batson resigned.” Marse said. “Found a place as a law clerk.”
‘Fortunate.” Jeeves had known the other valet was ambitious, but he hadn’t expected Batson to find such quick success. A few years reading law and, with the right allies, he might even rise to the bar.
“Foolish.” The older Ganymedian shook his head, as if to dislodge such foolish notions. “He’ll slave his life away, twisted between clients and partners, and for what? A Mayfair address, a fine suit, and a Bentley.”
“Better than slavery at five pounds a week.” He had no idea how demanding a senior law partner might be, but it could hardly exceed the hours expected by his current employment. Between Mrs. Nelson wanting breakfast at seven and Mr. Nelson staggering home at two?
“You think so? Marse smiled as a man in position of a secret. “I live in Mayfair, wear a suit, drive a Bentley – all without wrestling with anything more weighty than a bow tie.”
“Your master has a Bentley and a mansion, Mr. Marse.”
“My gentleman, Mr. Jeeves.” Marse lifted his wine glass, indicating the wish for a refill. “We are theirs. And properly managed? What is theirs is ours too.”