He
stops at the chair left by McComas in the middle of the terrace, and
steadies himself for a moment by placing his hand on the back of it.)
CRAMPTON. Those steps make me giddy. (He passes his hand over his
forehead.) I have not got over that infernal gas yet.
(He goes to the iron chair, so that he can lean his elbows on the
little table to prop his head as he sits. He soon recovers, and begins
to unbutton his overcoat. Meanwhile Valentine interviews the waiter.)
VALENTINE. Waiter!
WAITER (coming forward between them). Yes, sir.
VALENTINE. Mrs. Lanfrey Clandon.
WAITER (with a sweet smile of welcome). Yes, sir. We're expecting
you, sir. That is your table, sir. Mrs. Clandon will be down
presently, sir. The young lady and young gentleman were just talking
about your friend, sir.
VALENTINE. Indeed!
WAITER (smoothly melodious). Yes, sire. Great flow of spirits,
sir. A vein of pleasantry, as you might say, sir. (Quickly, to
Crampton, who has risen to get the overcoat off.) Beg pardon, sir, but
if you'll allow me (helping him to get the overcoat off and taking it
from him). Thank you, sir. (Crampton sits down again; and the waiter
resumes the broken melody.) The young gentleman's latest is that you're
his father, sir.
CRAMPTON. What!
WAITER. Only his joke, sir, his favourite joke.
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