Enoch nodded. The carriage stopped before the Willard Hotel. "Miss
Allen, will you lunch with me?" he asked.
Diana hesitated. "I'll be late getting back to the office," she said.
"I'll ask Watkins not to dock you," said Enoch soberly.
"Docking my salary," touching Enoch's proffered hand lightly as she sprang to the curb, "would be almost like taking something from nothing. I've never lunched in the Willard, Mr. Secretary."
"The Johnstown lunch still holds sway, I suppose!" said Enoch, following Diana down the stairs to Peacock Row.
They were a rather remarkable pair together. At least the occupants of the Row evidently felt so, for there was a breathless craning of necks and a hush in conversations as they passed, Diana, with her heart-searching beauty, Enoch with his great height and his splendid, rugged head. The head waiter did not actually embrace Enoch in welcoming him, but he managed to convey to the dining-room that here was a personal and private god of his own on whom the public had the privilege of gazing only through his generosity. Finally he had them seated to his satisfaction in the quietest and most conspicuous corner of the room.
"Now, my dear Mr. Secretary, what may we give you?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.
Enoch glanced askance at Diana, who shook her head. "This is entirely out of my experience, Mr. Secretary," she said.
"Gustav," said Enoch, "it's not yet one o'clock. We must leave here at five minutes before two. Something very simple, Gustav." He checked several items on the card and gave it to the head waiter with a smile.
Gustav smiled too. "Yes, Mr. Secretary!" he exclaimed, and disappeared.