'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.
'Many customers?' asked Felix Babylon.
'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.'
'But I have not finished this one.'
'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.
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