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Adelle, weary as she was, might not consider food as of the first importance in this crisis, but recognizing Archie's greater feebleness, she yielded to his desire for refreshment. So they drove to Foyot's and consumed two hours more in lunching delectably. Archie seemed somewhat aimless after dejeuner, perhaps he did not know just how to attack his formidable problem.
He thought we might like to go to Foyot's to-day." "So we will. Daisy, my dear ?" He stopped short, and his daughter looked at him, surprised. "Yes, father?" "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave me with this young lady for a few moments. I have something to say to her which I think it would be as well that I should say alone."
His first remark was: "I trust at least that you have not yet dined." "No, uncle." "To Foyot's, then!" When you expect to meet a man in his wrath and get an invitation to dinner, you feel almost as if you had been taken in. You are heated, your arguments are at your fingers' ends, your stock of petulance is ready for immediate use; and all have to be stored in bond.
But even on Capri, people sometimes hear the call of Paris and wish to be in that unending movement: to hear the multitudinous rumble, to watch the procession from a cafe terrace and to dine at Foyot's.
His first remark was: "I trust at least that you have not yet dined." "No, uncle." "To Foyot's, then!" When you expect to meet a man in his wrath and get an invitation to dinner, you feel almost as if you had been taken in. You are heated, your arguments are at your fingers' ends, your stock of petulance is ready for immediate use; and all have to be stored in bond.
There, as at the old Martin's, at University Place and Ninth Street, a little play of the imagination enabled the diner to hug the delusion that he was at Foyot's, and that the gentleman with the white goatee at the table opposite was a Senator of France from the near-by Palace of the Luxembourg.
She entered a taxi and told the man to drive to Foyot's restaurant on the left bank where the general would never think of looking for her. When she had breakfasted she strolled in the Luxembourg Gardens, in even better humor with herself and with the world. There was still that horrid-faced future, but it was not leering into her very face.
I had just led my friend back, after an excellent dinner at Foyot's, to the shabby pleasant sitting-room of my rive-gauche hotel; and I knew that, once I had settled him in a good arm-chair, and put a box of cigars at his elbow, I could trust him not to budge till I had the story. YOU remember old Neave, of course? Little Humphrey Neave, I mean. We used to see him pottering about Rome years ago.
How did you find your way?" "By accident." "Ma," he sang out to his wife, "you aren't going to try one of your historic stews on Mrs. Bragdon our one fashionable visitor of the season? Don't you think we had better make an occasion of this and adjourn to Foyot's?" "No," his wife replied firmly, "you've had too many 'occasions' this month. One of my déjeuners won't hurt Mrs. Bragdon or you either."
His first remark was: "I trust at least that you have not yet dined." "No, uncle." "To Foyot's, then!" When you expect to meet a man in his wrath and get an invitation to dinner, you feel almost as if you had been taken in. You are heated, your arguments are at your fingers' ends, your stock of petulance is ready for immediate use; and all have to be stored in bond.
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