“Favor? What has that to do with the decay of Europe’s aristocracy?”
“I’ve noticed that whenever you want to ask a favor which you consider questionable etiquette, you begin with a denunciation of royalty.”
“Observin’ fella,” commented Vance drily. Then he, too, smiled. “Do you mind if I invite Colonel Ostrander along to lunch?”
Markham gave him a sharp look.
“Bigsby Ostrander, you mean? . . . Is he the mysterious colonel you’ve been asking people about for the past two days?”
“That’s the lad. Pompous ass and that sort of thing. Might prove a bit edifyin’, though. He’s the papa of Benson’s crowd, so to speak; knows all parties. Regular old scandalmonger.”
“Have him along, by all means,” agreed Markham.
Then he picked up the telephone.
“Now I’m going to tell Ben you’re coming over for an hour or so.”