Involuntarily madame looked up.
The boy buried himself behind an expression of profound seriousness.
"Yes! _Sole Waleska_! Or, perhaps, _Coulibiac a la Russe!"_ The waiter's mouth opened in a desperate resolve to meet the worst.
Madame's eyes discreetly sought her plate.
The boy threw back his head and laughed aloud at his own small jest.
"Bring me two eggs _en cocotte_," he substituted, and laughed again in sheer pleasure at the waiter's sudden smile, his sudden restoration to dignity, as he hurried away to put a seal upon an order that permitted the hotel to retain its self-respect.
Again madame looked up.

'Monsieur was fond of his little pleasantry! This waiter was a good boy, but slow.

They did not keep a sufficiency of servants at the Hotel Railleux.

But doubtless monsieur had noticed that ?' The boy met her inquisitive glance with disarming frankness, but his words when he answered gave little information.
'No.

He had not as yet had time to notice anything.' 'But of course! Monsieur was a new arrival?
He had come--when was it-- ?' Madame appeared to search her memory.
'Yesterday.' 'But of course.