He lives up among the clouds, and when he condescends to come down to earth he shuts himself up in his own room, where he indulges in pleasant intercourse with the Muses.
"I have no objection to confessing that, although I am a brother in the art, and have stayed several times at his hotel, I have never once been allowed to catch a glimpse of his features.

The head-waiter, happily, is just the contrary.

It is he who manages the hotel, receives travellers, and arranges for their well-being.

He is a handsome fellow, with a fresh complexion, heavy moustache, and one lock of hair artificially arranged on his forehead.

He is perfectly conscious of his own good looks, and wears rings on both his hands.