"Your case is coming
before the committee."
I rushed towards the front door, and stood there for a few moments to get
some fresh air, for the atmosphere of the room was heavy with the odors
of countless dinners, and thick with tobacco smoke. I smoked half a
cigarette hurriedly, and then returned. There were scarcely half a dozen
guests now in the place. One of them, a stout middle-aged woman, who had
been sitting at the long table, beckoned me to her. She had very dark
eyes and a not unpleasant face; but she wore a hideous black sailor hat,
and her clothes were clumsily designed, and flamboyant.
"Is it true," she asked, "that this restaurant has changed hands?"
"Quite true, madam," I answered.
"Are you the new proprietor?" she asked.
"I am his nephew," I told her. "He is not here this evening."
"Are you going to keep on the eighteen-penny dinner?" she asked.
"We are going to alter nothing," I assured her, "so long as our customers
are satisfied."
She nodded, and eyed me more critically.
"You don't seem cut out for this sort of thing," she remarked.
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