"Do. I'll open a bottle of the governor's old port. Then we can play billiards, or piquet, or cat's-cradle, or any rotten thing you like."
Dick excused himself curtly. Austin had come down for Whitsuntide, and a lady was staying in the house. Lord Banstead pushed his hat to the back of his head.
"Then what the devil am I to do in this hole of a place?"
"Don't know," said Dick.
"You fellows in the country are so unfriendly. In town I never need dine alone. Anyone's glad to see me. Feeding all by myself in that dining-room fairly gives me the pip."
"Then come and dine here," said Dick, unable to refuse a neighbour hospitality.
"Right," said Banstead. "That is really like the Samaritan Johnnie. I'll come with pleasure."
"Quarter to eight."
Banstead hesitated. "Couldn't you make it a quarter past?"
Dick stared. "Alter our dinner hour? You've rather a nerve, haven't you, Banstead?"