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 about the querulous gentleman, whom one of the older ladies called "my dear." The other two and the girl, however, always addressed him as "Swilliam," which was what puzzled the young American, especially as their table was near his, and he heard "Swilliam" constantly. Finally he sought enlightenment from the concierge, and was pleased to learn that his neighbour was General Sir William Broadfeather, a personage of even more important achievements than Ogle had supposed.

Sir William, with his small flock about him, was waiting for tea in one of the heavily draped Moorish public rooms of the hotel; and the playwright, returning from a drive he had taken to air himself after his encounter with the beggars, dropped into a chair across the room from the English party and tapped upon a table for a waiter.

A white-jacketed youth approached inquisitively. "Yes, gentleman?"

"Du thé," Ogle said. "Avec du toast et des petites gateaux." He had been studying a French and English "Conversation Book" in the mornings.

"Yes, gentleman," the youth returned politely. "Tea and toast and some small cakes for one. Immediately!"