It was of a fairly elaborate description, and as a precautionary measure, before making any selection, I said: "I suppose I don't have to pay for any of this?"
His lip curled as he replied: "Of course not. Choose whatever you like and put a tick against it."
Thus encouraged, I ordered a nice little dinner of clear soup, truite-au-bleu, lamb cutlets with new potatoes, a slice of ham with madeira sauce and spinach, a péche Melba, angels on horseback, and some strawberries to finish up with. He took the order without flinching, and asked: "Do you want any wine?"
"Well, yes," I said, "if there's nothing to pay for it."
He flushed angrily. "I don't want any of your impudence," he said. "You will pay nothing at all for anything you have as long as you are here, and if you are not very careful you will be here a good deal longer than you bargain for."
"I don't know that I should altogether object to that," I said, and took the wine list from him.
It was an excellent list, and under the circumstances I made excellent use of it. I allowed myself a glass of white Tokay, and another of Chateau d'Yquem, a pint of Pommery, 1900, and a bottle of '68 port to sit with later on. He looked more contemptuous than ever as he took the order, and asked disdainfully: "Don't you want a liqueur with your coffee?"
"I had forgotten that for the moment," I said. "Have you any very old brandy?"
"We have some eighteen-fifteen," he said; "but I need scarcely say we are very seldom asked for it."
"Well, on the terms that you have indicated, you are asked for it now," I said. "And I should like one or two really good cigars, fairly strong—something like the one that Mr. Perry was smoking this afternoon, if you can get them."