“Do look after Mike,” Brett said. “Don’t let him get too bad.”

“Your frients haff gone upstairs,” the German maître d’hôtel said in English. He was a continual eavesdropper. Brett turned to him:

“Thank you, so much. Have you anything else to say?”

“No, ma’am .”

“Good,” said Brett.

“Save us a table for three,” I said to the German. He smiled his dirty little pink-and-white smile.

“Iss madam eating here?”

“No,” Brett said.

“Den I think a tabul for two will be enuff.”