Spaulding Hunt stood on his gravel driveway smoking an after-dinner cigar, as was his usual habit. He was very much a man of habit, and always had been. At the age of eighty-four he felt entitled to indulge in whatever took his fancy, without feeling the need to justify his actions to those around him.
In truth, the confirmed bachelor had never allowed the concerns or wants of others to cloud his judgement. He had very much lived his life according to his own code of conduct.
Expelling a huge ring of smoke into the night sky, Spaulding turned at the sound of footsteps behind him.
Mr and Mrs Jarrow climbed down the stone steps which led to the gravel drive, before wishing their landlord and employer a good night.
Spaulding acknowledged their departure with a slight nod of his head and t
