Belstairs ?" "Do what ?" "Borrow it," said the Duke.

"How do you manage to get people to talk about it?
Here I am wanting to borrow a hundred thousand, and I'm hanged if I can even find an opening." At which the Viscount had said, "Pooh, pooh! you don't need any opening.

Just borrow it straight out--ask for it across a dinner table, just as you'd ask for a match; they think nothing of it here." "Across the dinner table ?" repeated the Duke, who was a literal man.
"Certainly," said the Viscount.

"Not too soon, you know--say after a second glass of wine.

I assure you it's absolutely nothing." And it was just at that moment that a telegram was handed to the Duke from Mr.Lucullus Fyshe, praying him, as he was reported to be visiting the next day the City where the Mausoleum Club stands, to make acquaintance with him by dining at that institution.
And the Duke, being as I say a literal man, decided that just as soon as Mr.Fyshe should give him a second glass of wine, that second glass should cost Mr.Fyshe a hundred thousand pounds sterling.
And oddly enough, at about the same moment, Mr.Fyshe was calculating that provided he could make the Duke drink a second glass of the Mausoleum champagne, that glass would cost the Duke about five million dollars.
* * * * * So the very morning after that the Duke had arrived on the New York express in the City; and being an ordinary, democratic, commercial sort of place, absorbed in its own affairs, it made no fuss over him whatever.