The other man sat up, his eyes wide with suspicion. ‘Why on earth do you suggest that?’
Campion avoided his glance.
‘They’re the only two places in London at which one can eat, aren’t they?’ he murmured idiotically.
‘Look here, Campion, what do you know about all this business?’ Peter was scrambling out of his chair. ‘You might have been imitating Whitman, except that he’s got an extra half-dozen perfectly appalling places of the same type on his list.’
‘Half a dozen others, has he?’ Campion seemed impressed. ‘What a thorough bird he is.’
‘Thorough?’ said Peter. ‘I thought he was off his head.’
‘Oh, dear me, no. He’s an intelligent chap. I thought that the first time I saw him. You’ll fix it then, will you? Either the Gillyflower or the Maison Grecque.’
The younger man stretched out
