“I’m pretty religious.”
“Oh, rot,” said Brett. “Don’t start proselyting to-day. To-day’s going to be bad enough as it is.”
It was the first time I had seen her in the old happy, careless way since before she went off with Cohn. We were back again in front of the hotel. All the tables were set now, and already several were filled with people eating.
“Do look after Mike,” Brett said. “Don’t let him get too bad.”
“Your frients haff gone up-stairs,” the German maître d’hôtel said in English. He was a continual eavesdropper. Brett turned to him:
“Thank you, so much. Have you anything else to say?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good,” said Brett.
“Save us a table for three,” I said to the German. He smiled his dirty little pink-and-white smile.
“Iss madam eating here?”