He was smoking a black cigar and his accent was transatlantic.

Something about his appearance struck Tavernake as being vaguely familiar, but he could not at first recall where he had seen him before.
"That is my name, certainly," Tavernake admitted.
"I am going to ask you a somewhat impertinent question," his neighbor remarked.
"I suppose you can ask it," Tavernake rejoined.

"I am not obliged to answer, am I ?" The man smiled.
"Come," he said, "that's honest, at any rate.

Are you in a hurry for a few minutes ?" "I am in no particular hurry," Tavernake answered.

"What do you want ?" "A few nights ago," the stranger continued, lowering his voice a little, "I met you with a young lady whose appearance, for some reason which we needn't go into, interested me.