Egisto in his black cotton coat and long white apron was surprised when his visitor, in reply to a question as to what he wished to eat, said:
“Please yourself. Something which is a speciality of the house. What is it?”
“Well, signore, our zuppa alla Marinara is supposed to be the best in Rome,” he replied. “And of fish, we have red mullet cooked in the Livornese fashion—and carciofi alla guidea.”
“Good,” the visitor answered, for Hubert knew Italian cooking and knew what to order. “A dozen tartufi della mare, the ztàppa, triglie and a risotto with fegatini of chicken.”
Egisto bowed. From that moment he held the stranger, though a foreigner, in great esteem, for he realised that he knew a good dinner. And every waiter from Liverpool to Luxor or from Tunis to Trondhjem bows to the man who can discriminate on a menu. In what contempt, alas! are our own dear Cookites our Lunnites and our other various couponists held by the man in the black tie and white apron. I have heard a tourist order a boiled haddock in Florence, another whom I overheard demanded “fish and chips” in the Grand Rue in Constantinople, and I recollect quite well a man from Oldham—evidently a cotton operative—loudly call in broad Lancashire for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding in the Grand Hotel at Christiania.
Waldron descended the stairs and waited outside for some ten minutes or so until a taxi drove up and Her Highness, in the same shabby navy blue costume, and worn furs, descended and greeted him eagerly.
When alone together in the small bare room—for only a table and two rush-covered chairs were set upon the uncarpeted floor, with a cheap sideboard against the wall—he assisted her off with her jacket, and when she was seated, Hubert said:
“Now we shall be able to resume our little confidential chat that was so unfortunately interrupted the other night. This place is quite quiet, and the waiter cannot understand a single word of English.”
“Yes,” she sighed apprehensively. “I—I really hardly know what to tell you, Mr Waldron,” she faltered, her big, expressive eyes fixed upon his. “I only know that you are my very good friend, and that I have been foolish—ah! terribly foolish.”
The waiter at that moment entered with the zuppa, and after it was served, discreetly withdrew.