"Mind!" said George, reappearing from his paper with great suddenness. "Mind! Why, my dear fellow, if you will only be so kind as to do that I shall not be abused for a week. Take her out, and give her dinner and supper, a box at a theatre and a dance, and my blessing shall be with you all the days of my life."
Mrs. Tota clapped her hands. "George, for once in your life, you're nice," she said.
"We'll have a regular Simla evening," I suggested. "The nearest thing I can think of to the dining-room in the little U.S. Club chalet would be a private room at one of the restaurants."
Mrs. Tota looked to George for approval, and then nodded in acquiescence.
"The Savoy private rooms would be too big for our little party of two. Romano's has some charming Japanese private dining-rooms. There is the turret-room at Scott's, which looks down on to Piccadilly and the Haymarket. There are two sweet little corner rooms at the Trocadero, the bow windows of which command Shaftesbury Avenue. There are——"
"You seem to know a good deal about the private rooms of all the restaurants," said Mrs. Tota.
"I have an elderly relative who dislikes noise, so when I take him out to dine——"
"Oh, him!" interrupted Mrs. Tota. "Go on with your list."
"There are some very handsome little rooms at the Café Royal, and Kettner's, and a lot more."