"A good dinner," said Jimmy. "Very well. How long do you give me,
Arthur?"

"How long do you want?"

"There ought to be a time-limit," said Raikes. "It seems to me that
a flyer like Jimmy ought to be able to manage it at short notice.
Why not tonight? Nice, fine night. If Jimmy doesn't crack a crib
tonight, it's up to him. That suit you, Jimmy?"

"Perfectly."

Willett interposed. Willett had been endeavoring to drown his
sorrows all the evening, and the fact was a little noticeable in his
speech.

"See here," he said, "how's J-Jimmy going to prove he's done it?"

"Personally, I can take his word," said Mifflin.

"That be h-hanged for a tale. Wha-what's to prevent him saying he's
done it, whether he has or not?"

The Strollers looked uncomfortable. Nevertheless, it was Jimmy's
affair.

"Why, you'd get your dinner in any case," said Jimmy. "A dinner from
any host would smell as sweet."

Willett persisted with muddled obstinacy.