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.