It was a picture of luxurious home comfort.

She looked up as I entered with a grave, sweet smile.
"Your coffee is ready, Sir Edgar." There was my favorite chair drawn up to the table.

As I sat down I said aloud: "This is comfortable." Her smile brightened and deepened.
"You are like Miles, Sir Edgar.

No matter where he went, he always said coming home was the most pleasant part of the day." Then, with her white, jeweled hand, she poured out my coffee, and certainly the aromatic fragrance was very pleasant.
"You must be like Miles in something else," she said.

"He always declared that I made better coffee than anyone else--better than he tasted in all his travels.