“I daresay it is.”
“Where shall we go? Do you know of a good place? What about that restaurant opposite the pier?”
“Well,” said Willy, with a short, abrupt laugh, “the fact is, I must lunch at my office; but I shall be very glad if you will come.”
“I didn't know you had an office—an office for what?”
“I started an agency at the beginning of the year for artificial manure, but I think I shall drop it. I am arranging to go on the Stock Exchange. The difficulty is whether I shall be able to get my father to allow me to take enough money out of the business.”
“What business?”
“The distillery.”
“Oh, but what about this office? Why are you obliged to lunch at your office? Are you expecting customers? I know nothing about that sort of thing.”
“No, I wish I were. The fact is, my missis is staying in Brighton for a few weeks. The child has been ailing a good deal lately, and the doctor ordered change of air.”
“Child! Missis! I know nothing of this.”