Still he could not
... he knew ... He compared the advantages of what he called
'knocking about' in Paris, with the equivalent in London. His
information about London was out of date, and Peel-Swynnerton was
able to set him right on important details. But his information
about Paris was infinitely precious and interesting to the younger
man,, who saw that he had hitherto lived under strange
misconceptions.
"Have a whiskey?" asked Mr. Mardon, suddenly. "Very good here!" he
added.
"Thanks!" drawled Peel-Swynnerton.
The temptation to listen to Mr. Mardon as long as Mr. Mardon would
talk was not to be overcome. And presently, when the old men had
departed, they were frankly telling each other stories in the
dimness of the retreat. Then, when the supply of stories came to
an end, Mr. Mardon smacked his lips over the last drop of whiskey
and ejaculated: "Yes!" as if giving a general confirmation to all
that had been said.
"Do have one with me," said Matthew, politely. It was the least he
could do.
The second supply of whiskies was brought into the Lounge by Mr.
Mardon's Marie. He smiled on her familiarly, and remarked that he
supposed she would soon be going to bed after a hard day's work.
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