His back seemed always turned to old Jolyon; thus, he robbed his operations of the unseemliness of being carried on in his master's presence; now and then he furtively breathed on the silver, and wiped it with a piece of chamois leather.

He appeared to pore over the quantities of wine in the decanters, which he carried carefully and rather high, letting his head droop over them protectingly.

When he had finished, he stood for over a minute watching his master, and in his greenish eyes there was a look of contempt: After all, this master of his was an old buffer, who hadn't much left in him! Soft as a tom-cat, he crossed the room to press the bell.

His orders were 'dinner at seven.' What if his master were asleep; he would soon have him out of that; there was the night to sleep in! He had himself to think of, for he was due at his Club at half-past eight! In answer to the ring, appeared a page boy with a silver soup tureen.
The butler took it from his hands and placed it on the table, then, standing by the open door, as though about to usher company into the room, he said in a solemn voice: "Dinner is on the table, sir!" Slowly old Jolyon got up out of his chair, and sat down at the table to eat his dinner..