Calling the ma?®tre
d'h??tel, I requested him, pitching my voice so that it would be
easily audible at the surrounding tables:
"Persuade the gentleman on our right to discontinue his annoying
stare."
I saw that the Prince had heard my request. Flushing deeply red, he
abruptly rose and with a bow to the Countess went out of the room. It
was as I wished.
We finished our exquisite and excellently well-served dinner, and went
out to the Terrace Gardens to have our caf?© Turc and cigarettes.
This, to my mind, is the most enjoyable hour of the day, especially in
a place like Monte Carlo, well groomed, well fed, surrounded by an
ever-varying throng of interesting people, beautiful scenery,
exquisite music, the ideal _dolce far niente_.
Slowly inhaling the smoke of my excellent Medijeh, I fell into a sort
of contemplative reverie while waiting for the Prince. I knew he
would come. Back and forth in front of me wandered humanity, all
grades and shades. Here a prince, scion of a noble house, there a
parvenu, fresh from his latest stock-jobbing victory. Here a
mondaine, a demi-mondaine with a reputation in half a dozen countries.
Here a group of famous lights of the stage, there a couple of eminent
statesmen. Truly, a cosmopolitan crowd. What if the antecedents of
some of the pleasure seekers here were known? I recognized many and
it being my business to know such things, their stories came back to
me magically.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112