His companion made no comment.
"Been some time, hasn't it, since you surprised your stomach with anything like this?" bantered the big man, when the order had arrived and the waiter departed.
Sidwell smiled. "I shall have to confess it," he admitted.
"I thought so," remarked Hough dryly. "Next time you depict a plebeian scene you can remember this and thank me."
This time Sidwell did not smile. "You're hitting me rather hard, old man," he said.
"You deserve it," laconically answered Hough.
"But not from you!"
Hough meditatively watched the beads bursting on the surface of the liquor.
"Admitted," he said; "but the people who ought to touch you up are afraid to do so, and someone ought to." He smiled across the table. "Pardon the brutal frankness, but it's true."
Sidwell returned the glance. "You think it's the duty of some intimate to perform the kindness of this—touching up process occasionally, do you?"