"We might go out and have a sandwich somewhere," I suggested.
"There's nothing the matter with the Waldorf sandwiches."
"Except that they're expensive," said I. "You must remember you and I aren't millionaires."
"I've been doing pretty well lately," said he. "I can almost call myself rich. Please have some lunch, I can afford it, and if you refuse I'll know it's because——"
I guessed what he might be going to say, so I stopped him.
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed. "But I've run away from Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox, and I don't want to be found. If she or her brother should have come to New York, or if anybody else——"
"I've thought of that," said he, quickly, "but we've no time to waste. You're starving. If you wouldn't mind my getting you a private dining room, and sending you in some lunch——"
"But I want you to be with me," I insisted.
He evidently hesitated, but only for a minute. I don't think he's the sort of man to hesitate long about anything.
"Very well, that's what I'd like best, of course, if you don't mind," said he. "I'll go and see to everything, and be back before you can count sixty, if you do it slowly."