‘No, I don’t,’ answered Racksole; ‘it isn’t my custom, any more than it’s yours. I wanted to have a real good long yarn with you, and lo! here you are! Where have you sprung from?’
‘From Lausanne,’ said Felix Babylon. ‘I had finished my duties there, I had nothing else to do, and I felt homesick. I felt the nostalgia of London, and so I came over, just as you see,’ and he raised the handbag for Racksole’s notice. ‘One toothbrush, one razor, two slippers, eh?’ He laughed. ‘I was wondering as I walked along where I should stay--me, Felix Babylon, homeless in London.’
‘I should advise you to stay at the Grand Babylon,’ Racksole laughed back.
‘It is a good hotel, and I know the proprietor personally.’
‘Rather expensive, is it not?’ said Babylon.
‘To you, sir,’ answered Racksole, ‘the inclusive terms will be exactly half a crown a week. Do you accept?’
‘I accept,’ said Babylon, and added, ‘You are very good, Mr Racksole.’
They strolled together back to the hotel, saying nothing in particular, but feeling very content with each other’s company.
‘Very tolerable,’ said Racksole, assuming as much of the air of the professional hotel proprietor as he could. ‘I think I may say in the storekeeper’s phrase, that if there is any business about I am doing it.
To-night the people are all on the terrace in the portico--it’s so confoundedly hot--and the consumption of ice is simply enormous--nearly as large as it would be in New York.’
‘In that case,’ said Babylon politely, ‘let me offer you another cigar.’
‘That is just why I wish to offer you another one. A cigar such as yours, my good friend, ought never to be smoked within the precincts of the Grand Babylon, not even by the proprietor of the Grand Babylon, and especially when all the guests are assembled in the portico. The fumes of it would ruin any hotel.’
Theodore Racksole laughingly lighted the Rothschild Havana which Babylon gave him, and they entered the hotel arm in arm. But no sooner had they mounted the steps than little Felix became the object of numberless greetings. It appeared that he had been highly popular among his quondam guests. At last they reached the managerial room, where Babylon was regaled on a chicken, and Racksole assisted him in the consumption of a bottle of Heidsieck Monopole, Carte d’Or.