“They will not do that.”
“We’ll see;” and I touched it.
“They will not do that,” he declared, unmoved. “You will not tell them to. I should only say I am looking for an American gentleman I had the good fortune to meet at—Brabinsk, and think I have found him.”
He smiled with the same serene cunning.
“What do you want?” I asked angrily.
The waiter opened the door then.
“Ah, that is more like my brother. I will have cognac and cigars and coffee. The sight of your dear face, brother, is a delight.”
“Bring cigars, coffee, and brandy,” I told the waiter.
“Was I not right? You no longer order me out. On the contrary, we drink together, and smoke and—and talk.”
I waited until the drinks came.