“And no more Claras,” added Jim.
“There you go again,” said poor Reggie, swinging his cane disconsolately. “Bah Jove, this is no place for a bachelor. It isn’t, truly!”
[CHAPTER VII]
GROWING BEWILDERMENT
The boys, in their joy at having the girls with them once more, wanted to go to one of the big hotels for luncheon, but the girls themselves protested.
They wanted, they said, to go to some quiet place “where they could talk,” and, besides, they weren’t “presentable” after the long train journey.
Although the boys disagreed vehemently with this last statement, they finally yielded the point and found a quiet little restaurant just around the corner from Fifth Avenue.
Eagerly Joe plied them with questions about home. “Had the girls been well?” “How was mother and dear old dad?” and so on until the girls rebelled, saying that they had come to hear about Joe and Jim, not to talk about themselves.
“I say, how is the old game coming?” queried Reggie, taking the monocle from his eye and tapping it gently on the table. “Yesterday’s game was perfectly ripping, what? Hear you did yourself proud, Joe, old top.”