
“You see, Watson, but you do not observe. I wonder now whether one of
these haughty damsels would condescend to notice us? Splendid, she
drifts this way. It is true that she appears to be thinking of something
else, but doubtless her subconscious mind is functioning busily with such
matters as ham and eggs and pots of tea. Chop and fried potatoes,
please, Miss, and a large coffee, a roll and butter, and a plate of tongue
for the lady.”
The waitress repeated the order in a scornful tone, but Tuppence leant
forward suddenly and interrupted her.
“No, not a chop and fried potatoes. This gentleman will have a cheese
cake and a glass of milk.”
“A cheese cake and a milk,” said the waitress with even deeper scorn if
that were possible. Still thinking of something else, she drifted away
again.
“That was uncalled for,” said Tommy coldly.
“But I’m right, aren’t I? You are the Old Man in the Corner? Where’s
your piece of string?”
Tommy drew a long twisted mesh of string from his pocket, and
proceeded to tie a couple of knots in it.
“Complete to the smallest detail,” he murmured.
“You made a small mistake in ordering your meal, though.”
“Women are so literal minded,” said Tommy. “If there’s one thing I hate
it’s milk to drink, and cheese cakes are always so yellow and bilious
looking.”
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