Guest had never lost his sense of humor. As we left the agent's office and walked down Wellington Street into the Strand, he studied for a few moments my personal appearance, and began to laugh softly.
"My friend," he said, "you are wonderful! After all, beauty is but skin deep! Hardross Courage, if I remember rightly, was rather a good-looking fellow. Who would have believed that ready-made clothes from Hamburg, glasses and a beard could work such a change?"
I looked down a little disconsolately at my baggy trousers and thick clumsy boots.
"It's all very well," I replied; "but you're not exactly a distinguished looking object yourself!"
"I admit it," he answered; "but you must remember that for ten years, since I was kicked out of the diplomatic service in fact, I have studied the art of disguising myself. You, on the contrary, when I first had the pleasure of meeting you, were a somewhat obvious person. Who would have thought that a fortnight on a German steamer and six weeks in Hamburg would have turned you out such a finished article?"
"It's these d----d clothes," I answered a little irritably.
"They are helpful, certainly," Guest admitted. "Come, let us go and have luncheon _chez nous_."
We turned northwards again towards Soho, and entered presently a small restaurant of foreign appearance. The outside, which had once been painted white, was now more than a little dingy. Greyish-colored muslin blinds were stretched across the front windows. Within, the smell of cooking was all-pervading. A short dark man, with black moustache and urbane smile, greeted us at the door, and led us to a table.
"Very good luncheon to-day, sirs," he declared in German. "Hans, _hors d'oeuvres_ to the gentlemen."
We seated ourselves, arranged our napkins as Teutons, and ordered beer. Then Guest assumed a mysterious manner.
"Always good," the head-waiter declared. "We have our regular customers. Always they come!"
"Heard anything about your new proprietor?" he asked.
"Not yet," the man answered. "The nephew of Mr. Muller, who died, lives in Switzerland. A friend of mine has gone over to see him. He will buy the good-will--all the place. It will go on as before."
Guest smiled meaningly at me, a smile which was meant to puzzle the waiter.