It was a bargain. The steward pointed out the table selected by Odell.
I was dressed and ready for dinner before the bugle sounded, but did not go down until I thought that most of the passengers would be already seated. Hovering in the doorway, I saw that Odell was already in his place. Then I made straight for the table and sat down in the chair opposite his.
He had been gloomily eating his soup, and looked up from it with a glare.
"I think you must be making a mistake," he remarked with an effort at civility. "I asked to be alone."
"So did I," I said.
"But not at this table."
"At this very table."
"Then I'll leave it to you."
"Please don't," I said. "If one of us goes, I'll be the one, as I'm the last comer. But will you meanwhile be kind enough to answer two easy questions? First, are you Mr. Roger Odell of New York?"
"Yes, to question number one. If the next's as easy, perhaps I'll answer that too."