midday
He had barely finished ordering luncheon -- oyster stew , cold tongue , salad , and a bottle of Rhine wine -- when , looking up , he saw Wilsey was approaching him , beaming . `` Haryer , Wilsey ? '' he said , without cordiality . Wilsey , it fortunately appeared , had already had his midday meal , and had only a moment or two to give to sociability . `` Have n't seen you since that delightful evening , '' he murmured . `` I hope Mrs. Baxter got my card . '' He mentioned his card as if it had been a gift , not munificent , but not negligible , either .