"Hello, Pettigrew!" said Pugeot.
"Hello," said Simon, pleased with the heartiness and appearance of this new friend.
"Why, you look quite gay," said Pugeot. "What are you up to?"
"Out for some fun," said Simon. "What are you up to?"
"Same as you," replied Pugeot, delighted, amused, and surprised at Simon's manner and reply, the vast respect he had for his astuteness greatly amplified by this evidence of mundane leanings. "Get into the car; I've got to call at Panton Street for a moment, and then we'll go and have luncheon or something."
He opened the car door and Simon hopped in; then he gave the address to the driver and the car drove off.
"Well, I never expected to see you this morning," said Pugeot. "Never can feel grateful enough to you either—you've nothing special to do, have you? Anywhere I can drive you to?"
"I've got to see a girl," said Simon, "but she can wait."
Pugeot laughed.
That explained the summer garb and straw hat, but the frankness came to him with the weest bit of a shock. However, he was used to shocks, and if old Simon Pettigrew was running after girls it was no affair of his. It was a good joke, though, despite the fact that he could never tell it. Pugeot was not the man to tell tales out of school.