“Well, I thought at these er—what do you call ’em?—dinners a feller had everything in the old bill, if he wanted it.”
“Table d’hôte, you mean, Tom Flannery, but you’re way off, you are; nobody ever has everything.”
Tom looked disappointed, even sad.
“Well,” continued Bob, “I’m waiting for your order. Which soup will you have?”
“Which you goin’ to have, Bob?”
“I’m goin’ to have the consommé.”
“Then I’ll take the other one,” said Tom.
“The suprême?”
“That’s him,” replied Tom.
“Why do you prefer that?” laughed Herbert.