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