Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. " "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. Hilary could not have suggested such a thing. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair.
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