One of the servants went out.
"Fadrique," said Don John, "leave out my riding-cloak.

I may like to walk on the terrace in the moonlight, and it is cold.

Have my drink ready at midnight and wait for me.

Send Gil to sleep, for he was up last night." There was a strange pleasure in hearing his familiar orders and small directions and in seeing how thoughtful he was for his servants.

She knew that he had always refused to be surrounded by valets and gentlemen-in-waiting, and lived very simply when he could, but it was different to be brought into such close contact with his life.