"Is it true you're leaving the first of the month?"
He liked Brauer better for this direct question, although the man's presumption still rankled.
"I'm leaving to-day," he announced, dryly, not without a feeling of pride.
"What are you going to do?"
"I haven't decided… Perhaps…I don't know … I may become an insurance broker."
Brauer picked through the mess in his plate for an unshelled shrimp.
"That takes money," he ventured, dubiously.
"Oh, not a great deal," Starratt returned, ruffling a trifle. "Office rent for two or three months before the premiums begin to come in … a little capital to furnish up a room. I might even get some one to give me a desk in his office until I got started. It's done, you know."
Brauer neatly extracted a succulent morsel from its scaly sheath. "Don't you think it's better to put up a front?" he inquired. "If you've got a decent office and your own phone and a good stenographer it makes an impression when you're going after business… Why don't you go in with somebody?… There ought to be plenty of fellows ready to put up their money against your time."
"Who, for instance?" escaped Starratt, involuntarily.
Brauer shoved his plate of husked shrimps to one side. "Take me. I've saved up quite a bit, and…"