Diary of a Drug Fiend

98 The Diary of a Drug Fiend us of the Pigmies, who lived, if you call it living, in a system of order. | . , It is monstrous and ridiculous to open and close by convention. We had to go to some place where such things didn’t annoy us... . An excessively irritating incident spoilt our lunch at the Cascade. We had made a marvellous impression when we came in. We had floated in like butterflies settling on lilies. A buzz went round the tables. Lou’s beauty intoxicated everybody. Her jewellery dazzled the crowd. I thought of an assembly of Greeks of the best period unexpectedly visited by Apollo and Venus. We palpitated not only with our internal ecstasy but with the intoxicating sense that the whole world admired and envied us. We made them feel like the contents of a waste-paper basket. The head waiter himself became a high priest. He rose to the situation like the genius he was. He was mentally on his knees as he ventured to advise us in the choice of our lunch. It seemed to us the tribute of inferior emperors. And there was that fellow King Lamus five or six tables away |! The man with him was a Frenchman of obvious distinction, with a big red rosette and a trim aristocratic white moustache and beard. He was some minister or other. I couldn’t quite place him but I’d seen him often enough in the papers: somebody intimate with the president. He had been the principal object of interest before we came in. Our arrival pricked that bubble. Lamus had his back to us, and I supposed he didn’t see us, for he didn’t turn round, though everyone else in the place did so and began to buzz. I didn’t hate the man any more ; he was so absurdly inferior. And this was the annoying thing. When he and his friend got up to leave, they passed our table all smiles and bows.