“He’s very good-looking, isn’t he?” was her only reply, as she gazed absently at the floor below us crowded with elegant diners.
And the waiter was indeed somewhat handsome. A light-haired man, and, like all the waiters at the Louvre, a foreigner with a deficient knowledge of English.
“I expect he’s lost on his bets to-day,” Rosie added. “They all bet, you know, and he’s after a rousing tip to make up.”
“Oh, is that it?” I said, wondering at the pretty creature’s knowledge of the world. And then I began to talk about my play in my best diplomatic manner, inwardly chafing at the interruption of that weird Yellow Hungarian orchestra, which with bitter irony had hung over the railings of its stand a placard bearing the words, “By desire.”
The meal proceeded brilliantly. My diplomacy was a success. The champagne was a success. We arrived at the sorbet, that icy and sweet product which in these days of enormous repasts is placed half-way through the meal in order to renew one’s appetite for the second half. Your modern chef is the cruel tyrant of the stomach, and shows no mercy.
The fair-haired waiter’s hand distinctly trembled as he served the sorbets. I looked at mine for some moments, hesitating whether or not to venture upon it. I am a martyr to indigestion.
“It’s delicious,” said Rosie. “More delicious than the second act of your ‘Partners.’”
“Then I must risk it,” I replied, and plunged the spoon into the half-frozen greenish mass. As I did so I caught sight of our waiter, who was leaning against the service table at the corner of the balcony. His face was as white as a sheet. I thought he must be ill, and I felt sorry for him. However, I began to swallow the sorbet, and the sorbet was in truth rather choice. Presently our waiter clutched at the sleeve of another waiter who was passing, and whispered a few words in his ear. The second waiter turned to look at me, and replied. Then our waiter almost ran towards our table.
“Excuse me, sirr,” he murmured indistinctly, rolling the “r.” “Are you not Count Vandernoff?”
“I am not,” I replied briefly.