"
"I'd think so," commented the other, taking in the general effect of
Banneker's easy habituation to the standards of the restaurant. "You
don't own this place, do you?" he added.
From another member of the world which had inherited or captured
Sherry's as part of the spoils of life, the question might have been
offensive. But Banneker genuinely liked Cressey.
"Not exactly," he returned lightly. "Do I give that unfortunate
impression?"
"You give very much the impression of owning old Jules--or he does--and
having a proprietary share in the new head waiter. Are you here much?"
"Monday evenings, only."
"This is a good cocktail," observed Cressey, savoring it expertly.
"Better than they serve to me. And, say, Banneker, did Mertoun make you
that outfit?"
"Yes."
"Then I quit him," declared the gilded youth.
"Why? Isn't it all right?"
"All right! Dammit, it's a better job than ever I got out of him,"
returned his companion indignantly. "Some change from the catalogue suit
you sported when you landed here! You know how to wear 'em; I've got to
say that for you.... I've got to get back. When'll you dine with me? I
want to hear all about it."
"Any Monday," answered Banneker.
Cressey returned to his waiting potage, and was immediately bombarded
with queries, mainly from the girl on his left.
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