“My secretary,” Jacob indicated. “Mr. Sydney Morse—Lord Felixstowe.”
The former, startled for a moment out of his gravity, solemnly shook hands.
“Glad to meet you, Lord Felixstowe,” he said impressively. “Welcome to New York.”
“I am very glad to be here,” Felixstowe observed, as he returned the other’s salute in friendly fashion. “Gay little hamlet, what?”
“It’s a city full of interest, sir,” the other affirmed.
“You’ll have to show me around. I bet you know the ropes. The pick of the world’s fluff on its home soil, eh?”
The New Yorker looked a little staggered and edged his way towards Jacob.
“Here is the car, Mr. Pratt,” he announced, opening the door of a very handsome limousine.
“Where are you taking us?” Jacob enquired.