“Yes? I do not remember it,” Siddons replied, with the air of one who is making no great draft upon his own memory. He himself evidently sensed the lack of courtesy, for he added, “New York, perhaps. Have you been around New York much?”
“No, I haven’t. Somewhere else–”
Lieutenant Hampden’s mellow laugh interrupted.
“Siddons has the idea that one never meets anyone outside of New York,” he said. “He’s terribly provincial, Lieutenant. He thinks there are only two places in the world–New York and everywhere else.”
Siddons displayed no resentment at the taunt; he seemed quite well satisfied with the opinion expressed. In fact, he appeared quite satisfied with everything–especially with himself.
McGee wondered how a likeable chap, such as Hampden, could choose as companion one so utterly different in manner, in ideas, and in speech. But 29then, war brings together strange bedfellows and establishes new standards. McGee dismissed the matter from his mind as the car swung into the narrow streets of the darkened town.
“Where can I drop you?” he asked.
“Going by the café down on the main drag?” Hampden asked.
“Right.”
“That will be fine. I hope to see you again soon, Lieutenant.”