Here's Mr. Selden just returned from visiting at Windsor Castle,
and if we don't treat him well, he'll look down on us."
G. Selden grinned. "How have you been getting on, Sam?" he said, nodding
cheerfully to the man. They were old and tried friends. Sam knew all
about the days when a fellow could not come into Shandy's at all, or
must satisfy his strong young hunger with a bowl of soup, or coffee and
a roll. Sam did his best for them in the matter of the size of portions,
and they did their good-natured utmost for him in the affair of the
pooled tip.
"Been getting on as well as can be expected," Sam grinned back. "Hope
you had a fine time, Mr. Selden?"
"Fine! I should smile! Fine wasn't in it," answered Selden. "But I'm
looking forward to a Shandy porterhouse steak, all the same."
"Did they give you a better one in the Strawnd?" asked Baumgarten, in
what he believed to be a correct Cockney accent.
"You bet they didn't," said Selden. "Shandy's takes a lot of beating."
That last is English.
The people at the other tables cast involuntary glances at them. Their
eager, hearty young pleasure in the festivity of the occasion was a
healthy thing to see. As they sat round the corner table, they produced
the effect of gathering close about G.
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