They interrupted their sipping of green Chartreuse to drink it in brimming glasses of claret.
"We'll drive you to Queen's Gate!" said Alexander, when Piers began to look at his watch.

"No hurry, my boy! The night is young! 'And'"-- he broke into lyric quotation--"'haply the Queen Moon is on her throne, clustered around with all her starry fays.'-- I shall never forget this dinner; shall you, Biddy?
We'll have a song when we get home." One little matter had to be attended to, the paying of the bill.

Having glanced carelessly at the total, Alexander began to search his pockets.
"Why, hang it!" he exclaimed.

"What a fellow I am! Piers, it's really too absurd, but I shall have to ask you to lend me a sovereign; I can't make up enough--stupid carelessness! Biddy, why didn't you ask me if I'd got money ?--No, no; just a sovereign, Piers; I have the rest.

I'll pay you back to-morrow morning." With laughter at such a capital joke, Piers disbursed the coin.