“Ain't you a little early, Doc? You'll have a pair of hard-boiled eyes for breakfast if you keep on.”
“Shove along the drinks, don't keep the gentlemen waiting!” ordered the doctor huskily.
And Mr. Youtsey spun the glasses jingling across the bar.
The breakfast bell sounded a moment or two later, and they left Dr. Arling leaning limply against the bar, while they repaired to the dining-room where Gibbs met Marian, and did the honours with great gallantry.
“Now, my dear lady,” said he, as they rose from the table, his manner breathing benevolence and urbanity, “I am going to take this husband of yours down to my office for a chat and smoke.”
When they reached the street, Landray said:
“Well, general, prosperity seems to be smiling on you.”
“It's grinning from ear to ear; Grant City ain't pretty; architecturally she belongs to the year one—she's about the way Rome was when Remus got himself disliked by jumping over the wall; but it's as good as money in the bank.”
“It seems to offer an inviting field for real estate agents,” said Stephen.
The general laughed.