Chapter 3
The two men occupied a table set against the wall, not far from
the entrance to the restaurant, and throughout the progress of the
earlier part of their meal were able to watch the constant incoming
stream of their fellow-guests. They were, in their way, an
interesting contrast physically, neither of them good-looking
according to ordinary standards, but both with many pleasant
characteristics. Andrew Wilmore, slight and dark, with sallow
cheeks and brown eyes, looked very much what he was— a moderately
successful journalist and writer of stories, a keen golfer, a
bachelor who preferred a pipe to cigars, and lived at Richmond
because he could not find a flat in London which he could afford,
large enough for his somewhat expansive habits. Francis Ledsam was
of a sturd
