“Do you smoke?”
“Thank you,” said I, selecting a cigar.
“Have you matches?” he asked, “I never carry them myself.”
“No, I haven’t,” I admitted.
He pushed a button near him, and a Japanese steward appeared.
“Bring a box of matches and a bottle of champagne,” he said.
The steward set a light wicker table at my elbow, disappeared for a few minutes, and shortly returned with a bottle of champagne and a box of matches. Did my eyes deceive me, or was this the most noted brand in the world, and of the vintage of ’78? It seemed too good to be true.
“Would you like a sandwich or two with that wine, or is it too soon after lunch?”
“I could do with a few sandwiches,” I confessed, thinking of Yansan’s frugal fare; and shortly after there were placed before me, on a dainty, white, linen-and-lace-covered plate, some of the most delicious chicken sandwiches that it has ever been my fortune to taste.