“To Bellevue!” said the lieutenant to the cab-driver, “and mind you make your thoroughbreds fly!”
Theodore could not help being amused. It would never have occurred to him to address an elderly married man, like the cabman, with so much familiarity.
On the way the lieutenant talked of everything under the sun and stared at every pretty girl they passed.
They met a funeral procession on its return from the cemetery.
“Did you notice that devilish pretty girl in the last coach?” asked Gustav.
Theodore had not seen her and did not want to see her.
They passed an omnibus full of girls of the barmaid type. The lieutenant stood up, unconcernedly, in the public thoroughfare, and kissed his hands to them. He really behaved like a madman.
The business at Bellevue was soon settled. On their return the cab-driver drove them, without waiting for an order, to “The Equerry,” a restaurant where Gustav was evidently well-known.
“Let’s go and have something to eat,” said the lieutenant, pushing his brother out of the cab.
Theodore was fascinated. He was no abstainer and saw nothing wrong in entering a public-house, although it never occurred to him to do so. He followed, though not without a slight feeling of uneasiness.