ff, and I beckoned to the head waiter.
"Fetch me," I said, "a Virginian cigarette and a sherry and bitters."
A true gourmet would probably shudder at such a first course, but
it must be remembered that for three years my taste had had no
opportunity of becoming over-trained. Besides, in matters of this sort
I always act on the principle that it's better to enjoy oneself than
to be artistically correct.
Lying back in my chair I looked out over the little restaurant with a
sensation of beautiful complacency. The soft rose-shaded lamps threw a
warm glamour over everything, and through the delicate blue spirals of
my cigarette I could just see the laughing face of a charmingly pretty
girl who was dining with an elderly man at the opposite table. I
glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was close on eight--the
hour when the cell lights at Princetown are turned out, and another
dragging night of horror and darkness begins. Slowly and luxuriously I
sipped my sherry and bitters.
I was aroused from my reverie by the approach of M. Gaultier, who
carried a menu in his hand.
He handed me the card with another bow, and then stepped back as
though to watch the result. This was the dinner:
Clear soup.
Grilled salmon.
Lamb. New potatoes.
Woodcock.
Peche Melba.
Marrow on Toast.
I read it through, enjoying each separate word, and then, with a faint
sigh, handed it back to him.
"Heaven," I said, "was undoubtedly at the conference."
M. Gaultier picked up a wine list from the table. "And what will
Monsieur drink?" he inquired reverently.
"Monsieur," I replied, "has perfect faith in your judgment. He will
drink everything you choose to give him."
Half an hour later I again lay back in my chair, and lapped in a
superb contentment gently murmured to myself those two delightful
lines of Sydney Smith's--
"Serenely calm, the epicure may say:
Fate cannot harm me, I have dined today."
I sipped my Turkish coffee, lighted the fragrant Cabana which M.
Gaultier had selected for me, and debated cheerfully with myself what
I should do next. I had had so many unpleasant evenings since my trial
that I was determined that this one at all events should be a complete
success.
My first impulse of course was to visit George. There was something
very engaging in the thought of being ushered into his presence by a
respectable butler, and making my excuses for having called at such
an unreasonable hour. I picture
|