“My name is Rennard—Thomas Rennard,” he heard.
“Mine is David Markand.”
“I come from New York.... Are you going to New York?”
“Yes.” David wanted to say: “How did you know?”
“We hadn’t much to say—last night—to each other, did we?” Thomas Rennard laughed. They looked at each other.
“Have you ever been to New York?”
“No.... I have an uncle there.”
“You’re going to work for him?”
How did he know these things? “Yes.”
“A bit of a loaf before you buckle down?”