Wingate nodded his satisfaction as he approached the table.
"Jolly well done, Andrew," he declared.

"You certainly do pay for dressing, my boy.

Now drink that cocktail up and we'll talk business." Andrew Slate's altered deportment would have delighted the author of "Sartor Resartus." With his modish and correct clothes, his self-respect seemed to have returned.

He carried himself differently, there was a confident ring in his tone.

He studied the menu which Wingate passed him, through a well-polished eyeglass, and one could well have believed that he was a distinguished and frequent patron of the place.
"Well, what is it, Wingate ?" he asked at last, when the business of ordering luncheon was concluded.