“Is that your name, M. Paul?” he asked as he looked up at him.
“Oh bless you, no; that’s only her Frenchified way of putting it. My name is Paul, though—Paul Muniment.”
“And what’s your trade?” Hyacinth demanded with a jump into familiarity; for his friend seemed to have told him a great deal more than was usually conveyed in that item of information.
Paul Muniment looked down at him from above broad shoulders. “I work for a firm of wholesale chemists at Lambeth.”
“And where do you live?”
“I live over the water too; in the far south of London.”
“And are you going home now?”
“Oh yes, I’m going to toddle.”
“And may I toddle with you?”
Mr. Muniment considered him further and then gave a laugh. “I’ll carry you if you like.”