"We expect a hundred thousand ought to do the trick," replied Orde.

"Vell," said Heinzman, "ven you put it on the market, come and see
me." He nodded paternally at Orde, beaming through his thick
spectacles.

That evening, well after six, Orde returned to the hotel. After
freshening up in the marbled and boarded washroom, he hunted up
Newmark.

"Well, Joe," said he, "I'm as hungry as a bear. Come on, eat, and
I'll tell you all about it."

They deposited their hats on the racks and pushed open the swinging
screen doors that led into the dining-room. There they were taken
in charge by a marvellously haughty and redundant head-waitress, who
signalled them to follow down through ranks of small tables watched
by more stately damsels. Newmark, reserved and precise,
irreproachably correct in his neat gray, seemed enveloped in an
aloofness as impenetrable as that of the head-waitress herself.
Orde, however, was as breezy as ever. He hastened his stride to
overtake the head-waitress.

"Annie, be good!" he said in his jolly way. "We've got business to
talk. Put us somewhere alone."

Newmark nodded approval, and thrust his hand in his pocket. But
Annie looked up into Orde's frank, laughing face, and her lips
curved ever so faintly in the condescension of a smile.