A Golden Argosy by Fred M. White

It was nearly ten o'clock on the following morning before Edgar reached the Bedford, Covent Garden. He found the American in his private room waiting his arrival, and clad in a loose dressing-gown, which made him look extra tall and thin--a wonderful garment, embracing every known hue and colour, and strongly resembling, save as to its garishness, a Canadian wood in the fall. Mr Slimm laid aside a disreputable brier he was smoking, as soon as he perceived his visitor. 'Morning!' he said briskly. 'Tolerably punctual. Hope you don't object to the smell of tobacco so early?'

'I don't know,' Edgar replied, throwing himself clown in a chair. 'Like most well-regulated Britons, I cannot say I am partial to the smell of tobacco before breakfast.'