"Mischief makes strange bed-fellows, you'll admit. And if you think that a fair question—what are you doing here, with me?"
"Same excuse as before—trying to find out what your game is."
Wertheimer eyed the ceiling with an intimate grin. "My dear fellow!" he protested—"all you want to know is everything!"
"More or less," Lanyard admitted gracelessly. "One gathers that you mean to stop this side the Channel for some time."
"How so?"
"There's a settled, personal atmosphere about this establishment. It doesn't look as if half your things were still in trunks."
"Oh, these digs! Yes, they are comfy."
"You don't miss London?"
"Rather! But I shall appreciate it all the more when I go back."
"Then you can go back, if you like?"