Racksole followed him.

Rocco sat in a chair, one hand over his eyes; he had not noticed Theodore Racksole.
'What are you doing, M.Rocco ?' the millionaire asked smiling.

'Ah!' exclaimed Rocco, starting up with an apology.

'Pardon! I was inventing a new mayonnaise, which I shall need for a certain menu next week.' 'Do you invent these things without materials, then ?' questioned Racksole.
'Certainly.

I do dem in my mind.