He laughed, and Sylvester laughed with him.
“Well,” observed the lawyer, “I’m not sure that I couldn’t qualify on both of those counts. At any rate I’m sure of my appetite. I had a lunch engagement with an acquaintance of mine, but he hasn’t appeared, so you must take his place. We’ll lunch together.”
“Well, now, I’d like to fust-rate, and it’s real kind of you, Mr. Sylvester; but I don’t know’s I’d better. Your friend may heave in sight, after all, and I’d be in the way.”
“Not a bit of it. And I said ‘acquaintance,’ not ‘friend.’ Of course you will! You must. We can talk business while we’re eating, if you like.”
“All right. And I’m ever so much obliged to you. Is there an eatin’ house near here?”
“Oh, we’ll eat right here at the club. Come.”
He led the way, and Captain Elisha followed. The Central Club has a large, exclusive, and wealthy membership, and its quarters correspond. The captain gazed about him at the marble floors and pillars, the paintings and busts, with interest. After checking his hat and coat, as they entered the elevator he asked a question.
“Which floor is your club on, Mr. Sylvester?” he asked.
“Floor? Why, the dining room is on the fourth, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, I meant how many rooms do you rent?”