The asparagus appeared. They were enormous, succulent, and appetizing. The smell of the melted butter tickled my nostrils as the nostrils of Jehovah were tickled by the burned offerings of the virtuous Semites. I watched the abandoned woman thrust them down her throat in large voluptuous mouthfuls, and in my polite way I discoursed on the condition of the drama in the Balkans. At last she finished.
"Coffee?" I said.
"Yes, just an ice cream and coffee,” she answered.
I was past caring now. So I ordered coffee for myself and an ice cream and coffee for her.