Stepping back, napkin still upon arm, he bowed silently.

I took the seat indicated, and glanced up into his almost expressionless face.
"Peter, you old fraud," I said swiftly, "have you eaten ?" "Not as yet, sir," his voice showing just the proper tone of deference, his eyes staring straight ahead.
"Then take that chair and sit down." "Oh, no, sir; indeed, sir, I am not at all hungry, sir." I squared myself, fingering the knife at my plate.
"Peter," I said, sternly, "I'm a better man than you are, and you'll either sit down there and eat with me, or I'll lick you within an inch of your life.

There is food enough here for three men, and I want company." He rubbed his hand across his lips, and I caught a gleam of intelligence in his eyes.
"Well, sir, seeing you put it in that way, sir," he confessed, almost as though in regret, "I hardly see how I can refuse.

It is very flattering, sir." He drew up the other chair and sat down opposite me.

"Would you care for a glass of wine first, sir ?" he asked solicitously.