I sent for you partly because I thought you would enjoy the affair and partly because I think I can rely on you to regard it as entirely unofficial and not to talk about it.

You understand?
I dare say you will have no cause to regret having obliged Mr Racksole.' 'I think I grasp the situation,' said Hazell, with a slight smile.
'And, by the way,' added the high official, 'although the business is unofficial, it might be well if you wore your official overcoat.

See ?' 'Decidedly,' said Hazell; 'I should have done so in any case.' 'And now, Mr Hazell,' said Racksole, 'will you do me the pleasure of lunching with me?
If you agree, I should like to lunch at the place you usually frequent.' So it came to pass that Theodore Racksole and George Hazell, outdoor clerk in the Customs, lunched together at 'Thomas's Chop-House', in the city of London, upon mutton-chops and coffee.

The millionaire soon discovered that he had got hold of a keen-witted man and a person of much insight.
'Tell me,' said Hazell, when they had reached the cigarette stage, 'are the magazine writers anything like correct ?' 'What do you mean ?' asked Racksole, mystified.
'Well, you're a millionaire--"one of the best", I believe.

One often sees articles on and interviews with millionaires, which describe their private railroad cars, their steam yachts on the Hudson, their marble stables, and so on, and so on.