“No,” Vickers went on, “I have no bag, but in that belt, Plimpton, which I notice you are regarding with so much disfavor, is some four hundred dollars in American gold. I am just making up my mind to go out and spend it all upon my back if I knew where to go.”
Here Plimpton felt he could be of use. He had not valeted some of the best-dressed men in London and New York for nothing. He instantly named a tailor.
“And for immediate use, sir,” he added, as he hung the blue serge trousers over a chair, brushed beyond their deserts, “for immediate use I think you might find something that would fit you at Hooks’s. I should not recommend it for most gentlemen, but with a figure like yours, sir——”
“Thanks, Plimpton.”
“And will you breakfast downstairs or here, sir?”
“Where does Mr. Lee breakfast?”
“Not before noon, in his room, sir.”
“And Miss Nellie?”
“Miss Lee, sir” (Vickers noted the reproof), “breakfasts in the dining-room at nine.”
“I will breakfast in the dining-room at nine,” said Vickers, and sprang out of bed.