“Did you really? Well, call it lunch, and draw up your chair.”
“No, I’ve not come to a banquet, but to a business conference.”
“I’m sorry for that. My head is not very clear on business matters at any hour of the day, but in the morning I am particularly stupid. Do try a peach; you’ll find them exceedingly good.”
“No, thanks.”
“Then have a cigarette?”
His lordship raised the heavy lid of a richly chased box of silver, displaying a quantity of the paper tubes, and pushed this toward his visitor.
“They are a blend that is made for me in Cairo, but perhaps you prefer Virginians?”
“I have no choice in the matter,” said Mackeller, selecting a cigarette.
The butler snapped aglow an electric lighter, and held it convenient for the young engineer’s use, who drew in his breath, and exhaled a whiff of aromatic smoke.
“Do sit down, Mackeller!”