‘Hullo’, he said

He spoke in a tired voice.

‘Hullo’, said Mike.

‘Take a seat’, said the immaculate one. ‘If you don’t mind dirtying your bags, that’s to say. Personally, I don’t see any prospect of ever sitting down in this place. It looks to me as if they meant to use these chairs as mustard-and-cress beds. A Nursery Garden in the Home. That sort of idea. My name’, he added pensively, ‘is Smith. What’s yours ?’

‘Jackson’, said Mike.

‘Are you the Bully, the Pride of the School, or the Boy who is Led Astray and takes to Drink in Chapter Sixteen ?’

‘The last, for choice’, said Mike, ‘but I’ve only just arrived, so I don’t know’.

‘The boy—what will he become? Are you new here, too, then?’

‘Yes! Why, are you new?’

‘Do I look as if I belonged here? I’m the latest import. Sit down on yonder settee, and I will tell you the painful story of my life. By the way, before I start, there’s just one thing. If you ever have occasion to write to me, would you mind sticking a P at the beginning of my name? P-s-m-i-t-h. See? There are too many Smiths, and I don’t care for Smythe. My father’s content to worry along in the old-fashioned way, but I’ve decided to strike out a fresh line. I shall found a new dynasty. The resolve came to me unexpectedly this morning. I jotted it down on the back of an envelope. In conversation you may address me as Rupert (though I hope you won’t), or simply Smith, the P not being sounded. Cp. the name Zbysco, in which the Z is given a similar miss-in-baulk. See?’