"Old dog traitor—ever faithless you mean. I know your tricks, but come along then."
He came. Coppa's was almost full, but by some turn of the tables we found ourselves seated in the center of the room. That was enough to start Mr. Saltus off. Restaurants were bad enough at best, even in a secluded corner. In the middle of a room of closely packed tables—? He began as usual.
"It's far too crowded. Mr. Me doesn't want to stay. Let's leave the others and go somewhere else."
The muzzle as well as the menu was ignored and forgotten. When Mr. Saltus began to growl it was preliminary only, but I knew the signs—knew, too, what might be expected to follow.
As he ceased speaking a sudden cramp took possession of my right foot, and my exclamation of surprise distracted his attention for the moment. It was my turn to growl. A low shoe was kicked off during the growling and the meal began. All at once a sympathetic cramp in the other foot compelled his attention to be directed to me again while the remaining shoe was removed. It may be mentioned in excuse that it was the fashion to wear ridiculously high and narrow shoes at the time.
We had gone as far as the soup, which Mr. Saltus was sipping mechanically. As the meal progressed my difficulties did also. Try as I might, the offending shoes could not be forced on my feet again. Then the fun began. Distracted by it all, Mr. Saltus accepted chicken and salad unmurmuringly, in forgetfulness of his surroundings.
"You will have to sit here until every one goes or some one can fetch you a larger pair of ties." This remark was from one of our conservative friends, and it met with the approval of the others. Mr. Saltus was becoming restive again by this time.
"Not at all," I answered. "It's unfortunate to be sure, but get up and go I shall in my stocking feet. There is no law making shoes obligatory,—and besides, the people in this place are bohemians."
"All the more reason not to imitate them," was the reply.
That was enough to make the crowded little restaurant a most enchanting place to Mr. Saltus. Tables and people became non-existent to him. I was going to defy the lot, and that delighted him to such an extent that good humour covered him like a garment. He even smiled at the waiters. Any show of independence on my part, provided it did not conflict with him, was a treat. Half rising in his seat he exclaimed:—