I'll lunch with you at Cicconani's.

You know, I'm awfully fond of hair-dressers' shops.

They're miles better than those nasty butchers'." And he disappeared into the doorway.
The man called James continued to gaze after him, a monocle screwed into his eye.
"What the devil do you make of that fellow ?" he asked his companion, a pale young man with a high nose.
The pale young man reflected conscientiously for some minutes, and then said-- "Had a knock on his head when he was a kid, I should think." "No, I don't think it's that," replied the Honourable James Barker.
"I've sometimes fancied he was a sort of artist, Lambert." "Bosh!" cried Mr.Lambert, briefly.
"I admit I can't make him out," resumed Barker, abstractedly; "he never opens his mouth without saying something so indescribably half-witted that to call him a fool seems the very feeblest attempt at characterisation.

But there's another thing about him that's rather funny.

Do you know that he has the one collection of Japanese lacquer in Europe?
Have you ever seen his books?
All Greek poets and mediaeval French and that sort of thing.