"It's banks fer his," murmured Spike, rapturously. "He eats dem alive. An' jools from duchesses."
"I admit a partiality for jewels and duchesses," said Jimmy. "And, now, as it's a little late, perhaps we had better—Ready, Spike? Good-night, then. Pleased to have met you."
"I'll see you at my office."
"I may possibly look in. I shall be doing very little work in New York, I fancy. I am here merely on a vacation."
"If you do any work at all," said the policeman coldly, "you'll look in at my office, or you'll wish you had when it's too late."
"Of course, of course. I shouldn't dream of omitting any formality that may be usual. But I don't fancy I shall break my vacation. By the way, one little thing. Have you any objections to my carving a J on your front-door?"
The policeman stared.
"On the inside. It won't show. It's just a whim of mine. If you have no objection?"
"I don't want any of your—" began the policeman.
"You misunderstand me. It's only that it means paying for a dinner. I wouldn't for the world—"