"Very well, then," White agreed. "Where shall we go? What do you say to Delmonico's?"
Again Johnny asked: "Do you mean it? Honest?"
"Of course I mean it, Johnny," he replied.
"I haven't been in Delmonico's for ten years and more," said the other. "I'd like to have just another dinner there. But you can't take me there. Look at me!"
White looked at him. The thin coat was buttoned tight; it was very worn, and yet it was not ragged; it was in better condition than the hat or the boots.
As the two men stood there facing each other on the corner of the street there was a foretaste of winter in the wind which smote them and ate into their marrow.
White linked his arm again in his classmate's. "I've seen you look sweller, Johnny, I confess," he said; "but I haven't dressed for dinner myself to-night."
"So it's Delmonico's?" Johnny asked.
"It's Delmonico's," White responded.
"Then take me into the café," said the other. "I can stand the men, I think, but I'm not in shape to go into the restaurant where the women are."