Edward Phillips Oppenheim

The Double Traitor Edward Phillips Oppenheim

"My friend," she said, "when we first met-I am ashamed, considering that I dine alone withyou to-night, to reflect how short a time ago-you spoke of your removal here from Parisvery much as though it were a veritable exile. I told you then that there might be surprisesin store for you. This restaurant, for instance! We both know our Paris, yet do we lackanything here which you find at the Ritz or Giro's?"The young man looked around him appraisingly. The two were dining at one of the newestand most fashionable restaurants in Berlin. The room itself, although a little sombre byreason of its oak panelling, was relieved from absolute gloom by the lightness and eleganceof its furniture and appointments, the profusion of flowers, and the soft grey carpet, sothickly piled that every sound was deadened. The delicate strains of music came from aninvisible orchestra concealed behind a canopy of palms. The head-waiters had the correctclerical air, half complacent, half dignified. Among the other diners were many beautifulwomen in marvellous toilettes. A variety of uniforms, worn by the officers at differenttables, gave colour and distinction to a tout ensemble with which even Norgate could findno fault.