It is
the acme of luxury. You pick the fresh berries from the vine on your
table, the Terrace supplies quantities of cream, and you pay half a
sovereign--$2.50--for a dish of strawberries. One dish is enough for
the average customer. Every afternoon I ordered five!
Day after day I consumed in strawberries two sovereigns and a
half--$12.50--of the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerein's money.
Always tipping the girl a half sovereign which made my daily
strawberry bill come up to three sovereigns ($15). For about ten days
I did this, always at the same time, always being careful to make my
entrance after the lady's party was seated, always ordering the same
number of portions, always giving the girl the same tip. It wasn't
long before I began to be observed. I soon saw that not only the
attendants but the patrons of the Terrace were becoming interested in
my foible. One day as I passed I heard someone say:
"Here comes the strawberry fiend."
I was satisfied. I knew it would be easy now to effect an entrance to
the lady's set. I had been marked as something out of the usual in
the restaurant which from three to four in the afternoon at that time
of the year is the most fashionable in London. Now, a woman like my
lady does not flirt. If you glance at her under favorable conditions,
such as my strawberry "stunt" had created for me, she will return the
glance.
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