Explore "Rodney Stone" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
MY uncle and I were up betimes next morning, but he was much out of / temper, for no news had been heard of his valet Ambrose. He had indeed / become like one of those ants of which I have read, who are so accustomed / to be fed by smaller ants that when they are left to themselves they die / of hunger. It was only by the aid of a man whom the landlord procured, / and of Fox's valet, who had been sent expressly across, that his toilet / was at last performed.
"I must win this race, nephew," said he, when he had finished breakfast; / "I can't afford to be beat. Look out of the window and see if the Lades / are there."