CHAPTER XXXVI
THE LEPER
Déjeuner had been prepared for the party in a private room, a big room, for there were twelve guests all told, including not only Cléo’s friends but the business men, and the friends of Prince Selm.
But before thinking of déjeuner or anything else she had to see about Raft.
She left him standing in the hall whilst she interviewed the manager.
Actually, the business would have been easier for her had she brought with her an animal, even of the largest pattern. The manager, when he had caught a glimpse of the intended guest, revolted; not openly, it is true, but with genuflexions and outstretching of hands.
Where could this man be put, what could be done with him? The valets and ladies’ maids would certainly not eat with him, the visitors would object to his presence in the lounge, the servants in the servants’ quarters. He was a common sailor man. Heavens! What a problem that manager had to face, something quite new, quite illogical, yet quite logical. He had heard of the wreck of the Gaston and he was as interested in Clêo as a hotel manager could be. He understood the whole case when she told him that Raft had saved her life; he was a man of broad mind, but he knew intimately the mental make up of his servants, his visitors and their servants. He discussed the matter with Cléo quite openly and she saw the reason of all he said. Raft was “impossible” in that hotel. His heroism did not count a bit; it did with the manager who would not have to sit at table with him, it did not with the waiters and valets and ladies’ maids who would have to associate with him, or the guests whose eyes would be offended by his presence.
“He belongs to a ship,” said the manager. Then he solved the question with a burst.
“I will look after him myself.” He ran into the hall and called Raft to come with him; then, followed by Cléo, he led the way to a sitting-room, a most elegant sitting-room upholstered in blue silk.