PART II
Wherein the Gentle Art of Dining is Variously Described.
"Move back, Lonnegan, and let me get at it!" cried MacWhirter the next afternoon. "You jab a fire as if it were something you wanted to kill! Coddle it a little, like this," and Mac laid the warm cheeks of two logs together and a sputtering of hot kisses filled the hearth.
"Don't call him 'Lonnegan,' Mac, in that rude and boisterous way," expostulated Boggs. "It jars on his Royal Highness's finer sensibilities. Say 'Mr. Lonnegan, will you have the kindness to remove your beautiful and well-groomed and fashionable carcass until I can add a stick or two to my fire?' Lonnegan has been in society—out every night this week, I hear."
Mac replaced the tongs and straightened his back, his face turned toward Lonnegan.
"Were you really on exhibition, Lonny?" Mac's impatience never lasts many seconds.
The architect nodded, then answered slowly:
"Five dinners and a tea."
"All rich houses, I suppose?"
"Very rich."