"All the better," I replied. And I also pointed out to him that the best way to see London is outside an omnibus. So we started.
Arrived at the restaurant, I was enthusiastically received by the courteous cashier, who presented me with a previous bill, which, I noticed, had not been receipted. I said I thought it rather rude to present a gentleman with a bill which they hadn't taken the trouble to receipt.
We sat down.
"I'm glad," I said to Victor, "that I didn't know this dinner was coming off to-day. If I had had notice, I might have ordered it beforehand; and a dinner, to be perfection, should be eaten, if possible, on the day it is cooked. At least, that's what I always think. I may be wrong."
Monsieur de Train-de-Luxe smiled, said I was a farceur, and I ordered our dinner.
First, some turnip turtle soup, then, ortolans of spinach and mashed potatoes, followed by a canvas-backed duck made of Indian corn, and last, not least, plum-pudding. As all will agree, this makes a very delicious and seasonable repast. Long dinners have quite gone out of fashion. And this was washed down with a sparkling bottle of orange champagne, '97.
My friend Victor, who is rather a gourmet, was so struck with the first mouthful of soup, that he said it was quite enough, observing, he had never tasted anything like it.
Pleased with this praise, I asked his opinion of the ortolans. He said that their aroma dispensed with the necessity for their consumption. He was evidently surprised.
When the bill was presented by the courteous "chucker-out," we found that most unluckily neither of us had any money.