““There was a pause. Master and valet both perused the breakfast table, then each other. Finally the table again. Eventually, Grieves realized his mistake and hastily began cutting the toast slices into the preferred “soldier” shapes more suitable for dipping in runny yolk. James gave a small grunt of approval. One must have toast soldiers with one’s egg or else the entire day was off on the wrong foot. There weren’t many reliable things in his life, but a few habits devotedly maintained kept his world from spinning too rapidly. He would feel dreadfully alone if not for those small, comforting reassurances. His valet had suggested it was a sign of old age advancing. James refused to believe it.””
