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s depression. “She ought to be spanked,?/span> ?said h

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e in English. Fortinbras beamed on him. ?/span> 癥ou do

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owe something to me, don’t you?” “A lo t,” sai
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n and ask him to crown the

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calf with flowers and send him along to-day for afternoon tea.” He smil

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ed and waved a dismissing hand. Félise, laughing, kissed him on the foreh

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ead and tripped away, having little time to spare for pleasantry. The two

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men smoked in silence for some time. At last Fortinbras, throwing the but

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t end of his cigarette into Corinna’s coffee-bowl, rose, stretched himself and yawned heartily. “Having now accomplishe

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on of this eni

ast, in zeal, manner and habiliment. His dress suit, of ardent cut but practically unworn, gave the salle-à-manger an air of startling refinement and prosperity. At first Bigourdin, embarrassed by the shifting of the relative position, had deprecated this outer symbol of servitude. A man could wait in a lounge suit just as well as

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in a tail-coat—a proposition which Fortinbras vehemently controverted. He read his perplexed brother-in-law a lecture on the psychology of clothes. They had a spiritual significance, bringing subjective and objective into harmony. A judge could not devote his whole essence to the administration of justice if he were conscious of be

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ce. “Mais qu

ing invested in the glittering guise of a harlequin. If Martin wore the tweeds of the tourist he would feel inharmonious with his true waiter-self, and therefore could not wait with the perfect waiter’s spiritual deftness. Besides, he had not counselled his disciple to wait as an amateur. The way of the amateur was perdition. No, w

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hen Martin threw his napki

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n under his left arm, he should flick a bit of his heart into

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its folds, lik

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e a true professional. “Arrange it as you like,” said the weary Bigourdin. Fortinbras arranged and Martin became outwardly the p


erfect waiter. Of the craft itself he had much t

o learn, chiefly under the guidance of Bigourd