[CHAPTER XXXIV]
THE MONICO (SHAFTESBURY AVENUE)
He, a gentleman on the Stock Exchange, who has generally a stock of good stories, mentioned in the course of a letter to me that he had heard a really good tale of the last bye-election, and would tell it to me the next time that we met, as it was too long to write. Now, that particular election is fast becoming ancient history, and if that story had to be retailed to my circle of country friends, it would have to be done quickly. Therefore I wrote to my stockbroker, who lives in Shaftesbury Avenue, and asked him to name a day to come across the way, and dine at the Monico.
The day settled, I went to the Monico and interviewed the manager, Signor Giulio C. Nobile, a gentleman of stalwart figure, with a pleasant smile, and a small but carefully-tended moustache. I wanted to kill two birds at a stone—to hear the story and to see what the Monico and its cooking were like, for it is a restaurant which somehow or other has not fallen within the circle of my usual dining-places.
I asked Signor Nobile what he considered the speciality of the great restaurant over which he presides; and though he was anxious to give me a specially ordered dinner, I came to the conclusion that I could best test what the establishment could do by trying the 5s. table d'hôte in the Renaissance room on the first floor.
"Dinner at 7.30 for two, if you please, and pray remember that I want exactly the table d'hôte dinner that all your customers get," was my last request to Signor Nobile, and he smiled and said that that should be so.
At 7.30 my facetious stockbroker friend, ruddy of face, his moustache carefully curled, and his expansive white waistcoat garnished with gold-and-coral buttons, appeared on the scene. As the lift, engineered by a smart page, took us up to the first floor he began: "It's the funniest story you ever heard, and will make you die of laughter. There was a doubtful elector and——" But the lift stopped, and there was Signor Nobile bowing and smiling on the landing.
"We have five minutes to spare, Signor Nobile," I said, "and while they are putting the hors-d'œuvre on the table, will you take us round the house and show us the different rooms?"