They sat down on opposite sides of the recessed table. A handsome young waitress lit the candle for them. "On me," said Guido.
"Same, then," said Kintyre, emptying his glass.
Guido squirmed. "How d'you like the place?" he asked.
Kintyre shrugged. "It's a place."
"This Parisian bistro deal is only on slack nights. Weekends, we got a combo in here."
"I think I prefer the bistro."
"I guess you would."
They fell back into silence. Guido smoked raggedly. Kintyre felt no need for tobacco; the implacable sense of going somewhere overrode his self.
After the girl had brought their round, Guido said in a harsh tone, looking away from him: "Well, what is it? I got to go on again soon."
"I just came from the Michaelis'," said Kintyre.