in with, a cup of soup, a touch of cold salmon, some cold curry, and a splash of gooseberry tart and cream with a bite of cheese to finish?”
I don’t know that I had expected the man actually to scream with delight, though I had picked the items from my knowledge of his pet dishes, but I had expected him to say something.
I looked up, and found that his attention was elsewhere. He was gazing at the waitress with the look of a dog that’s just remembered where its bone was buried.
She was a tallish girl with sort of soft, soulful brown eyes. Nice figure and all that. Rather decent hands, too. I didn’t remember having seen her about before, and I must say she raised the standard of the place quite a bit.
“How about it, laddie?” I said, being all for getting the order booked and going on to the serious knife-and-fork work.
“Eh?” said young Bingo absently.
I recited the programme once more.
“Oh, yes, fine!” said Bingo. “Anything, anything.”
The girl pushed off, and he turned to me with protruding eyes. “I thought you said they weren’t pretty, Bertie!” he said reproachfully.
“Oh, my heavens!” I said. “You surely haven’t fallen in love again—and with a girl you’ve only just seen?”
“There are times, Bertie,” said young Bingo, “when