"I beg your pardon."
"I said one brandy, two Scotch whiskies, and a small soda divided. You've quite right, there are only two of us; I take brandy and whisky together--I'm a lunatic."
Two young men at the other end, with whom the young lady had been talking, looked at each other and smiled. The young lady also smiled, under the apparent impression that, somewhere, there was a joke.
"It is rather unusual, isn't it?"
"Not at all--with lunatics."
It was not easy for standers-by to decide whether or not he was in earnest. Rodney was in doubt; indeed, the man's words and manner started him wondering to what extent, in all he had been saying, the fellow had been "pulling his leg."
The young lady passed three glasses to their side of the counter. The stranger, taking two, emptied one into the other. He held it up towards Rodney.
"Your very good health, and the next time we meet may you afford me as much entertainment."
Swallowing the contents of the glass at a single gulp, he replaced it on the counter.
"The same again, miss; one brandy, one Scotch whisky; lunatics don't take long over a drop like that."