"No offense," smiled Edgerton; "I resigned because I couldn't afford it. It's a good club; hope you make it soon."
"I hope I do.... But we're rather recent additions—if we are additions—to New York. You never can tell what New Yorkers will do to people like us," he added laughingly.
"New York is practically composed of recent residents," said Edgerton, smiling.
"They're the most pitiless to newcomers. I wouldn't be very much afraid if we had only your sort to encounter. If you old residents like a man, he gets his hat check ultimately, and passes in; but it lies with the sidewalk speculators now. The seats of the mighty are in their hands."
Edgerton was much amused.
"Not entirely," he said; "even we older residents are asked about now and then."
"Into which of the three circles—Smart, Knickerbocker, or Old Testament?"
Edgerton was laughing so frankly that Rivett senior turned his convex glasses on him; and, deciding that the laughter was genuine and not included in services, went on with his business conversation with a Mr. Snaith—a large, soft-skinned gentleman deeply immersed in oil and cotton.
Colonel Curmew came over briskly, expelling smoke.
"What are you youngsters playing this evening? Auction or Chinese Kahn?"