e, surveying
for a moment the world in the sunlight. But a day was to come when I was
never to do it again alone. You can imagine, therefore, what the coming
of the Ashburnhams meant to me. I have forgotten the aspect of many
things, but I shall never forget the aspect of the dining-room of the
Hotel Excelsior on that evening--and on so many other evenings. Whole
castles have vanished from my memory, whole cities that I have never
visited again, but that white room, festooned with papier-mache fruits
and flowers; the tall windows; the many tables; the black screen round
the door with three golden cranes flying upward on each panel; the
palm-tree in the centre of the room; the swish of the waiter's feet; the
cold expensive elegance; the mien of the diners as they came in every
evening--their air of earnestness as if they must go through a meal
prescribed by the Kur authorities and their air of sobriety as if they
must seek not by any means to enjoy their meals--those things I shall
not easily forget. And then, one evening, in the twilight, I saw Edward
Ashburnham lounge round the screen into the room. The head waiter, a man
with a face all grey--in what subterranean nooks or corners do people
cultivate those absolutely grey complexions?--went with the timorous
patronage of these creatures towards him and held out a grey ear to be
whispered into. It was generally a disagreeable ordeal for newcomers but
Edward Ashburnham bore it like an Englishman and a gentleman. I could
see his lips form a word of three syllables--remember I had nothing in
the world to do but to notice these niceties--and immediately I knew
that he must be Edward Ashburnham, Captain, Fourteenth Hussars, of
Branshaw House, Branshaw Teleragh. I knew it because every evening just
before dinner, whilst I waited in the hall, I used, by the courtesy of
Monsieur Schontz, the proprietor, to inspect the little police reports
that each guest was expected to sign upon taking a room.

The head waiter piloted him immediately to a vacant table, three away
from my own--the table that the Grenfalls of Falls River, N.J., had
just vacated. It struck me that that was not a very nice table for the
newcomers, since the sunlight, low though it was, shone straight down
upon it, and the same idea seemed to come at the same moment into
Captain Ashburnham's head. His face hitherto had, in the wonderful
English fashion, expressed nothing whatever. Nothing. There was in it
neither