"
"But breakfast," the Honourable Jimmy put in,--"a man ought to be
dashed careful where he breakfasts. A man is known by his breakfast
companions, what?"
"Young fellow," Wingate asked, "where is Sarah?"
"Have no fear," was the blissful reply. "Sarah is coming to the supper.
She's filling her old 'bus up with peaches from the Gaiety. Not being
allowed to sit inside with any of them, I was sent on ahead."
"You dog!" Maurice White exclaimed.
"Dog yourself," was the prompt retort. "Opportunity is a fine thing.
Sometimes I have a gruesome fear that Sarah does not altogether
trust me."
Kendrick, who had been straightening his tie before the glass, now
swung around.
"This way to the lift, boys," he said. "Time we put in an appearance."
The reception room of the Arcadian suite was already fairly well crowded.
Wingate shook hands with his host, a cheery, theatrical-loving soul, and
was presented to many other people. Where he was not introduced he found
a pleasing absence of formality, which facilitated conversation and
rapidly widened his circle of acquaintances. Kendrick came over and
slapped him on the back.
"Wingate, my lad," he exclaimed, "you're going some! You're the bright
boy of the party. Whom are you taking into supper?"
"Me!" said a rather shrill but not unmusical voice from Wingate's side.
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