“By all means. Do let’s,” said Pince-nez. His manner somehow suggested that he too expected an invitation, perhaps. He hesitated a moment, as though about to add something, but in the end said nothing.
“We must lunch together one day,” observed Breezy, with his jolly smile. He glanced up at the restaurant.
“By all means—let’s,” agreed the other again, with one foot on the steps. “Any day you like. Next week, perhaps. You let me know.” He nodded cordially, and half turned to enter.
“Lemme see, where are you staying?” called Breezy by way of after-thought.
“Oh! I’m at the X——,” mentioning an obscure hostel in the W.C. district.
“Of course; yes, I remember. That’s where you stopped before, isn’t it? Up in Bloomsbury somewhere——?”
“Rooms ain’t up to much, but the cooking’s quite decent.”
“Good. Then we’ll lunch one day soon. What sort of time, by the bye, suits you?” The breezy one, for some obscure reason, looked vigorously at his watch.
“Oh! any time; one o’clock onwards, sort of thing, I suppose?” with an air of “just let me know and I’ll be there.”
“Same here, yes,” agreed the other, with slightly less enthusiasm.