The Luncheon by nterval first met. How time does fly!
We waited for the asparagus to be cooked. Panic seized me. It was not a question now of how much money I should have left over for the rest of the month, but whether I had enough to pay the bill. It would be mortifying to find myself ten francs short and be obliged to borrow from my guest. I could not bring myself to do that. I knew exactly how much I had, and if the bill came to more I had made up my mind that I would put my hand in my pocket and with a dramatic cry start up and say it had been picked. Of course, it would be awkward if she had not money enough either to pay the bill. Then the only thing would be to leave my watch and say I would come back and pay later.
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.
"You know, there's one thing I thoroughly believe in," she said, as she ate the ice cream. "One should always get up from a meal feeling one could eat a little more."
"Are you still hungry?" I asked faintly.
"Oh, no, I'm not hungry; you see, I don't eat luncheon. I have a cup of coffee in the
morning and then dinner, but I never eat more than one thing for luncheon. I was speaking for you."
"Oh, I see!"
Then a terrible thing happened. While we were waiting for the coffee, the head waiter, with an ingratiating smile on his false face, came up to us bearing a large basket full of huge peaches. They had the blush of an innocent girl; they had the rich tone of an Italian landscape. But surely peaches were not in season then? Lord knew what they cost. I knew too what they cost-a little later, for my guest, going on with her conversation, absentmindedly took one.
"You see, you've filled your stomach with a lot of meat"-my one miserable little chop- "and you can't eat any more. But I've just had a snack and I shall enjoy a peach."
The bill came and when I paid it I found that I had only enough for a quite inadequate tip. Her eyes rested for an instant on the three francs I left for the waiter, and I knew that she thought me mean. But when I walked out of the restaurant I had the whole month before me and not a penny in my pocket.
"Follow my example," she said as we shook hand, "and never eat more than one thing for luncheon."
"I'll do better than that," I retorted. "I'll eat nothing for dinner to-night."
"Humorist!" she cried gaily, jumping into a cab, "you're quite a humorist!"
But I have had my revenge at last. I do not believe that I am a vindictive man, but when the immortal gods take a hand in the matter it is pardonable to observe the result with complacency. Today she weighs twenty-one stone*.
(* One stone equals fourteen pounds.)