Half an-hour before twelve, he was in his own office, and in the thirty minutes that lay between his arrival and the visit of the proprietor, he had arranged his affairs for any absence that would be necessary.
When Mr.Belcher came in, looking from side to side, with the air of a man who owned all he saw, even the clerks, who respectfully bowed to him as he passed, he found Mr.Talbot waiting; also, a bunch of the costliest cigars.
"I remembered your weakness, you see," said Talbot.
"Toll, you're a jewel," said Mr.Belcher, drawing out one of the fragrant rolls and lighting it.
"Now, before we go a step," said Talbot, "you must agree to come to my house to-morrow night to dinner, and meet some of my friends.

When you come to New York, you'll want to know somebody." "Toll, I tell you you're a jewel." "And you'll come ?" "Well, you know I'm not rigged exactly for that sort of thing, and, faith, I'm not up to it, but I suppose all a man has to do is to put on a stiff upper lip, and take it as it comes." "I'll risk you anywhere." "All right! I'll be there." "Six o'clock, sharp;--and now let's go and find a broker.

I know the best one in the city, and I'll show you the inside of more fine houses before night than you have ever seen." Talbot took the proprietor's arm and led him to a carriage in waiting.
Then he took him to Pine street, and introduced him, in the most deferential manner, to the broker who held half of New York at his disposal, and knew the city as he knew his alphabet.
The broker took the pair of house-hunters to a private room, and unfolded a map of the city before them.

On this he traced, with a well-kept finger-nail, a series of lines,--like those fanciful isothermal definitions that embrace the regions of perennial summer on the range of the Northern Pacific Railroad,--within which social respectability made its home.

Within certain avenues and certain streets, he explained that it was a respectable thing to live.