“I certainly will.”

“Alligator?”

“Oh, yes.” He chose three matched cases and a briefcase that were the same chocolate gator as his new checkbook. He avoided looking at the price tags. He bought socks and cuff links and belts and sweaters and two dressing gowns, one cotton, one silk.

In the sportswear department he bought sneakers, boat shoes, running shorts, and a dozen polo shirts. “I can’t think of anything else,” he said.

“Then let’s go and take delivery of your new suit,” Theresa said. She delivered him to the tailor and he put on a new shirt, tie, shoes, and belt, then slipped on his Cartier watch, while Theresa disappeared with his new American Express card.

She returned as he was examining himself in the mirror.

“Perfection,” she said, handing him the bill to sign. He caught sight of the total as he was signing, and it was a bit over $160,000. “If you’ll come with me, American Express would like to speak with you.”

She took him to a phone. “Hello?”

“Mr. Hayward,” a woman said, “may I ask you some questions?”

“Of course.”

She grilled him for a couple of minutes. “I’m sorry to detain you, but it is your first purchase on your new card, and we had to be sure it was you.”

“Of course.” He hung up.

“And now,” Theresa said, “you have just run up the largest sale I have ever made. May I take you to lunch in our new restaurant downstairs?”

“Of course you may.”

Shortly, they were seated at a table in the most beautiful room he had ever dined in, outside of Oxford.

When they had ordered, she looked at him questioningly. “Tell me, were all your clothes lost at sea in a shipwreck?”

He laughed. “No, I’ve just neglected to buy any clothes for a while, and what I have are mostly in England, where I’ve been living for the past twenty-two years.”

“And what do you do, Mr. Hayward?”

“You must call me Laurence, please.”

“And what do you do, Laurence?”

“I teach English and art history at a public school.”

“Which in England is a private school, is it not?”

“It is.”

“Which one?”

“Eton College.”

“Even I have heard of Eton,” she said. “Did you also attend Eton as a boy?”

“I did.”

“It didn’t seem to hurt your accent much.”

“I’m American born. I assume my American disguise when I’m here.”

“Do you live in New York?”

“Palm Beach, but I’m looking at an apartment in about an hour.”

“Where?

“Park Avenue.”

“Very good. And will you furnish it in an hour?”

“I expect it will take a little longer, though I understand it’s already very nicely furnished. Now, you know a lot about me, and I have to catch up. Your sixty-second bio, please.”