I could see T-S prick forward his ears. “Vot? You know de Viggs?”
“Mr. Carpenter possesses an acquaintance with our best society which will astonish you when you realize it.”
“Vy didn't you tell me dat?” demanded the other; and I could complete the sentence for him: “Somebody has offered him more money!”
Here the voice of Maw was heard: “Ain't we gonna git nuttin' to eat?”
So for a time the problem of capital and labor was put to one side. There were two waiters standing by, very nervous, because of the strike. T-S grabbed the card from one, and read off a list of food, which the waiter wrote down. Maw, who was learning the rudiments of etiquette, handed her card to Mary, who gave her order, and then Maw gave hers, and I gave mine, and there was only Carpenter left.
He was sitting, his dark eyes roaming here and there about the dining-room. Prince's, as you may know, is a gorgeous establishment: too much so for my taste—it has almost as much gilded moulding as if T-S had designed it for a picture palace. In front of Carpenter's eyes sat a dame with a bare white back, and a rope of big pearls about it, and a tiara of diamonds on top; and beyond her were more dames, and yet more, and men in dinner-coats, putting food into red faces. You and I get used to such things, but I could understand that to a stranger it must be shocking to see so many people feeding so expensively.
“Vot you vant to order, Mr. Carpenter?” demanded T-S; and I waited, full of curiosity. What would this man choose to eat in a “lobster palace”?
Carpenter took the card from his host and studied it. Apparently he had no difficulty in finding the most substantial part of the menu. “I'll have prime ribs of beef,” said he; “and boiled mutton with caper sauce; and young spring turkey; and squab en casserole; and milk fed guinea fowl—” The waiter, of course, was obediently writing down each item. “And planked steak with mushrooms; and braised spare ribs—”
“My Gawd!” broke in the host.
“And roast teal duck; and lamb kidneys—”