“Good for him! What’s your plan, then?”
“Well—I haven’t any yet. Thought I’d consult you. That reminds me that I invited him to meet us at your office after dinner.”
“My office? Why didn’t you have him come to the club?”
“Well, the office is on my way to the station, for one thing, and I won’t have much time here. Thought you and I could have some dinner together and a quiet smoke and then walk down to the office and see Craig for a few minutes. All right?”
“Surely, but we must get there before eight or we’ll have to climb nine flights of stairs. The elevators stop at eight.”
“I think I told him about eight. By the way, did you hear me having fun with Nick Turner?”
“Who’s he?”
“Why, that fellow who pitched for Lynton.”
“Smith, you mean? So his name is Turner, eh? Was that you who hurled insults at him from the stand?”