"Oh, cheer up! We couldn't both be having the same dream together."
"That's true!" said Bobo, looking wonderfully relieved.
"Let's go into the next room," said Jack. "Louis Quinze isn't homelike."
Entering the Dutch room, he said: "This is rather classy. We can have some nice little parties in here."
"I wish it was time to eat again," said Bobo with sudden recollection. "What a lot of time we waste digesting!"
They were presently informed over the telephone that Mr. Pope of the Sphere and Mr. Wallis of the Constellation requested a word or two with Mr. Norman.
"The news of our arrival wasted no time in leaking out," remarked Jack.
Looking Bobo over thoughtfully, he decided that further coaching was necessary before the pseudo-millionaire could safely be thrown to the reporters. So he sent down word that Mr. Norman was out, and to avoid possible encounters in the lobby, he and Bobo made their way out by the rear door of the state suite and thence by Silas Gyde's private stair to the entrance on the side street.
At the Broadway corner they paused. The sight of the double procession of automobiles started a new train of desires.
"They ought to keep the automobile show-rooms open all night," said Jack. "A fellow wants to buy a car most after dinner. I shan't really believe I am a millionaire—I mean that you are, until we have a snaky red roadster with twelve cylinders and a searchlight."