“All right, sir.”
“What’s your name?” asked the inebriate, as he sank into a large armchair near the window.
“Leonard Craig.”
“Never heard the name before.”
“What’s your name, sir?”
“What you want to know for?” asked the other, cunningly.
“The landlord will want to put it on his book.”
“My name? Phil Stark.”
“Philip Stark?”
“Yes; who told you?”