"
"Two first-class rooms for you, madame, both with stoves," replied
the waiter who had hastily come up, "and one without heat for your
servant."
She looked at them, and then abruptly said: "they are satisfactory,
have fires built at once; my servant can sleep in the unheated room."
I merely looked at her.
"Bring up the trunks, Gregor," she commands, paying no attention to
my looks. "In the meantime I'll be dressing, and then will go down
to the dining-room, and you can eat something for supper."
As she goes into the adjoining room, I drag the trunks upstairs and
help the waiter build a fire in her bed-room. He tries to question
me in bad French about my employer. With a brief glance I see the
blazing fire, the fragrant white poster-bed, and the rugs which cover
the floor. Tired and hungry I then descend the stairs, and ask for
something to eat. A good-natured waiter, who used to be in the
Austrian army and takes all sorts of pains to entertain me in German,
shows me the dining-room and waits on me. I have just had the first
fresh drink in thirty-six hours and the first bite of warm food on
my fork, when she enters.
I rise.
"What do you mean by taking me into a dining-room in which my
servant is eating," she snaps at the waiter, flaring with anger. She
turns around and leaves.
Meanwhile I thank heaven that I am permitted to go on eating.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102