"Who is Mr. Porter?"
"He's one of the richest men in Rumania. He is the head of many big petroleum companies. I told him that there was an English lady staying with us, and he was delighted. You can't leave to-night. Mr. Porter will never forgive us."
"Look here. Is this Florilor the Second?"
The waiter held up his hands in protest.
"Ah, no, madame! This is an Englishman. He could buy up M. Florilor ten times over. Shall I say that madame will be delighted to drink a cockatail with him?"
"Get out," said Sylvia, pointing to the door.
But afterward she felt disinclined to make a journey that night, and, notwithstanding Philidor's urgency, she decided to waste one more night in Avereshti. Moreover, the notion of meeting an Englishman was not so dull, after all. Ten minutes later she strolled down-stairs to have a look at him.
Mr. Porter was a stout man of about sixty, who was sometimes rather like Mr. Pickwick in appearance, but generally bore a greater resemblance to Tweedledum. He was dressed in a well-cut suit of pepper-and-salt check and wore a glossy collar with a full black cravat, in which a fine diamond twinkled modestly; a clear, somewhat florid face with that priestly glimmer of a very close shave, well-brushed boots, white spats, and a positive impression of having clean cuffs completed a figure that exhaled all the more prosperity and cheerfulness because the background of the hotel was so unsuitable.
"Going to introduce myself. Ha-ha! Apsley Porter's my name. Well known hereabouts. Ha-ha! Didn't expect to meet a compatriot in these times at Avereshti. Ugly little hole. Business before pleasure, though, by George! I don't see why pleasure should be left out in the cold altogether. What are you going to have? Ordered a Martini here the other day. 'What's that?' I said to the scoundrel who served it. 'Martini? Pah! Almost as dangerous as a Martini-Henry,' I said. Ha-ha-ha-ha! But of course the blackguard didn't understand me. Going to have dinner with me, I hope. I've ordered a few special dishes. Always bring my own champagne with me in case of accidents. I forced them to get ice here, though. Ha-ha! By George, I did. I said that if there wasn't ice whenever I came I should close down one of the principal wells I control. Did I tell you my name? Ah, glad I did. I've got a deuced bad habit of talking away without introducing myself. Here comes the villain with your cocktail. You must gin and bear it. What? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Sylvia liked Mr. Porter and accepted his invitation to dinner. He was distressed to hear that a friend had been staying with her in the hotel so recently as this morning and that he had had the bad luck to miss entertaining her.