“Are you staying at this hotel?”
“Yes. Here is my card.”
Rodney read this name on the card:
JEFFERSON PETTRIGREW.
“I wish you were going to the theater with us.”
“It wouldn’t do. Mr. Wheeler would remember me.”
“Then come round and breakfast with me tomorrow—at eight o’clock, sharp.”
“I will, sir. Now I will take a back seat, and leave you to receive your friend.”
“Don’t call him my friend. He seems to be a mean scoundrel.”
“Don’t let him suspect anything from your manner.”