“You must make allowances for him, darling.”
“Right-o! But I hope devoutly that he doesn’t catch me at it. I’ve a sort of idea that if the old dad discovered that I was making allowances for him, he would have from ten to fifteen fits.”
“He’s worried just now, you know.”
“I didn’t know. He doesn’t confide in me much.”
“He’s worried about that waiter.”
“What waiter, queen of my soul?”
“A man called Salvatore. Father dismissed him some time ago.”
“Salvatore!”
“Probably you don’t remember him. He used to wait on this table.”
“Why—”