...and then later, everyone has calmed down and the Pryces are having a pub lunch in a booth with the hugger from earlier, who looks even more of a casting-agency Englishman than Jared Harris and his wife. After some talk between the wives about their husbands' relative love of soccer, the other chap (we'll come to know his name is "Edwin Baker") tells Lane he's not sure if he caught it in all the din, but is Lane an account man at his firm? Lane says no, he's the financial chief, so Hunt tells him to have one give him a call. You'd think a situation like this would be easily anticipated and, as such, Lane would know the protocol, but instead of following the lesson that even Don had to learn the hard way, which is to let account people handle account activity, Lane protests that his name is on the door. The wives chat a bit about how much they love New York, with Mrs. Hunt expressing the wish to retire to a lovely Eastern farm at some point. Hunt adds that it's her dream to raise hogs and given how early we are, it's probably premature to make a joke about her marriage being good training, but I have to take what's given to me. Also, as my great friend Ali Arikan pointed out, this entire scene doesn't much resemble how Brits would celebrate a World Cup win, but there are some things you can't show on unrestricted television even at ten o'clock at night.
Peggy's sitting at the counter in a coffee shop (haha, remember those?) when she spies Ken walking by her with an elderly gentleman in tow. Peggy greets him warmly, but he's not his usual gregarious self with her, acting vaguely like she's an old girlfriend he doesn't want to introduce to his current date. Peggy's obviously offended by his uncharacteristic standoffishness, so Ken makes an excuse about how it's Cynthia's uncle and he's "painfully shy" and whatever the guy thinks is going on, it did seem a bit rude for him to look at Ken impatiently and repair to a table without even acknowledging Peggy's existence, but anyway. Ken awkwardly heads off as well, leaving Peggy with her trademark face that looks like she just swallowed barium.
Cut to a partner's meeting, in which Don is sketching a noose on a pad and that seems juvenile in an oddly uncharacteristic way for him, yet it's absolutely hilarious coming off Peggy's Amanda Clarke Revenge Face, so I'm going to allow it. Anyway, Joan asks for new business from each of the partners save Lane, which is probably standard procedure and yet, given her pointed "We're done here" gathering of her things, seems a bit on the nose for this show. And the way everyone looks at Lane as if he's just sprouted a second head when he pipes up that he has some new business is a bit much as well. Pete, rather snottily, asks if Lane is taking leave again and given how many points Pete has been scoring at Roger's expense lately, this hardly seems necessary and also makes his later whine about how they're all supposed to be friends ring false. I mean, I know he's not a big fan of Lane's penny-pinching and certainly he was resentful that Ken was made Head of Accounts way back when, but that was a long time ago and this still seems beyond. However, Lane is unfazed as he continues that he's struck up a friendship with Edwin and the big deal is that he's the SVP of PR for Jaguar and -- without any solicitation -- made it clear that in advance of their impending merger with BMC, they're on the lookout for a new agency to break them into the American market, and they've got a dinner set. Everyone gives their kudos -- except Pete, who practically spits that he can't believe Lane is excited about new business, since they'll have to hire new people to service it and look, he's often a little worm, but a significant amount of time in this series has been spent on him refining his business image and yet here he is, behaving in the least mature manner when it comes to matters of business than I can easily recall. This isn't playing for me, quite. Lane, finally starting to get offended, frostily offers that if Pete were to bring in an account of equal stature, he might be more receptive to new hires. Pete, rocketing past condescension all the way to disbelief, sneers that the account would be three million in billings at the outside and at this point his position has gotten so ridiculous that Don feels compelled to intervene: "It's a car and you know it." Roger, not that I blame him, takes advantage of Pete's inexplicable attitude to offer to "ride shotgun," and as useless as Roger often is, I'll never not want him around as long as he can churn out bad product-related puns at the drop of a hat. Lane, however, thinks he and Edwin can relate to each other just fine Englishman to Englishman, and heads off to bask in the glow of his little coup, for which he can thank his wife I'M JUST SAYING. When he's gone, Don wonders if someone shouldn't give Lane some pointers and when Pete sniffs that he's "terribly busy," Roger's only too happy to volunteer. And really, on top of everything I said above, does it make sense from a character standpoint for Pete to provide Roger an opportunity for relevance?