“Pshaw!” said the dapper gentleman, whose age might have been twenty-three. “Why the handle? I’m Guy to my friends, don’t you know! Aren’t you going to shake?”
Common politeness compelled Vance to accept the young man’s hand, though it was with some reluctance.
“You’re about the last chap I’d have thought of meeting out here in Kansas, ‘pon my word,” continued Dudley, volubly. “But I’m deuced glad to see you, all the same.”
The reverse was the case with Vance, though of course he did not so express himself.
He was inclined to regard the meeting as unfortunate.
“I had no idea of seeing you here, either,” said Vance, with no great enthusiasm.
“I s’pose not,” said Dudley, showing his fine set of teeth with a sort of feline smile. “It’s always the unexpected what happens, don’t you know. Have a smoke?” and he offered Vance a cigar.
“Thank you, I don’t smoke.”
“Come over to the Criterion, then, and I’ll blow you off,” and Dudley grabbed him by the arm in a friendly way.
“You’ll have to excuse me. I do not drink,” replied Vance firmly.