Mr Bunker’s shopping turned out to be a pretty extensive operation.
“Loan vat you please of money,” said his friend. “A gentleman should be dressed in agreement.”
With now and then an apology for his extravagance, he took full advantage of the Baron’s generosity, and ordered such an assortment of garments that his tailor could hardly bow low enough to express his gratification.
After an excellent lunch in the most expensive restaurant to be found, they walked arm-in-arm westwards along [pg 83] Piccadilly, Mr Bunker pointing out the various objects of historical or ephemeral interest to be seen in that thoroughfare, the Baron drinking in this information with the serious air of the distinguished traveller.
“And now we come to the Park,” said Mr Bunker. “Guard your heart, Baron.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” replied the Baron. “Zo instrogtion is feenished, and now goms entertainment, ha?”
“With the moral always running through it, remember.”
“I shall not forget.”
The sunshine had brought out a great many carriages and a sprinkling of walkers along the railings. The two friends strolled among them, eyeing the women and stopping now and then to look back at a carriage.
“I suppose,” said the Baron, “zat vile you haf been avay your frients have forgot you.”