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"Monsieur will feel better after a little food." The head waiter handed the buttered toast with bland majesty, at the same time shooting a reproving glance at the little chasseur, who was peeping from behind the door at the afternoon breakfaster. "I feel perfectly well," replied Mr. Greyne, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "Still, monsieur will feel much better after a little food." Mr.
"Hello, Tommy," said the breakfaster. "What'll you have to drink? An entente cordialer?" "Don't joke," said the other. "I'm in a pale pink funk. I'm afraid to look into the morning papers." "Hello! What have you been up to that's scandalous?" "It isn't me," replied the diplomat ungrammatically. "It's Telfik Bey." "Telfik Bey? Wait a minute. Let me think."
'Ah, thank you; I'm a bad breakfaster; that is, said Stanley, recollecting that he had made some very creditable meals at the same table, 'when I smoke so late as I did last night. 'You drove Mr. Wylder to Dollington? 'Yes; he's gone to town, he says yes, the mail train to get some diamonds for Miss Brandon a present that ought to have come the day before yesterday.
"My dear lady, if you can read minds so accurately at a distance, be assured of this: to-day I shall be too busy with Terry to have any time to spare on you." The door from the narrow hall partly opened. "May I come in?" At sound of her voice, he sprang to his feet, upsetting his chair. She made bold to look in at him. "Why, Tabs, you are a late breakfaster.
Just as they were finishing a really good meal, for which every breakfaster had a royal, salt-water appetite, a steamer's whistle was heard, not far off to port. "I'll bet that's the Army tug!" muttered Captain Jack, rising hastily from the table. "Tell you what, fellows, we've got to begin to have something like Navy discipline aboard this craft.
"Femme vraiment remarquable," hoarsely whispered a stout breakfaster, behind his napkin, between two spoonsful of his soup. "Not two in a century like her," said my neighbor. "No nor two in all France non plus," retorted the stout man. "She could rule a kingdom hey, Paul?"
Jarvis ducked his head in a species of bow, declined to be thanked, and shuffled out into the street, leaving Betty to open her new career by taking thirty-seven cents from the late breakfaster. Three days had elapsed since the battle which had opened the campaign, and there had been no further movement on the part of the enemy. Smith was puzzled.
It was this uncanny silence of hers even more than the effects which still lingered of his revels in the metropolis that had interfered with Nutty's enjoyment of the morning meal. Never a hearty breakfaster, he had found himself under the influence of her wordless disapproval physically unable to consume the fried egg that confronted him.
He was a mystery and mysteries interested her. Did he work all night and sleep all day? What was he doing? She was astonished a few nights after her arrival to receive a call from the mysterious evening breakfaster. "Pardon I intrude," he began gracefully, presenting his card. "But I have heard how clever you are, Senora Dunlap. A friend, in an importing firm, has told me of you, a Mr. Dodge."
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